Victorian 2000s

The world does not change.

The burden of being a historian is this realization.  Now, I could take this blog to go into the deep details and reasons why history is important, why we must study it, and why this statement is a truth, but I will not bore you with that knowledge.  My goal right now is simply to point out an interesting observation.

Have you ever been on a tour of a Victorian Era Home? I myself, being a NC native, have been to the Biltmore Estate on many occasions.  In this house, as with most wealthy Victorian families, there is a Billiard Room.  This is the room where, after dinner in the Dinning Hall, the men would excuse themselves from the women and go to smoke cigars, play billiards, and discuss business and politics.  The women were not allowed in this room, nor, I imagine, did they really care to go into it.  They were left to their own sitting room to gossip, sew, play music, and, I imagine, to talk just as much politics and business as the men did.  Let’s be honest, it was the wealthy wife who kept the books on many occasions.  Take careful note, if you will, of the furnishings and decor of this particular room:

Now, flashfoward to 2009.  My parents had a couple friends come over for dinner tonight.  After the food was eaten, an interesting thing happened.  Me, my mom, and her friend were left in the dinning room to finish our conversation.  I played the piano for a while.  My dad and his friend retired to the room in our house that has been dubbed “the man cave.” They are currently sitting on the couch, watching pre-season football and talking…you guessed it…buisness and politics.  I went in there for a minute, and wouldn’t you know that my dad said, “What are you doing in here? This is the man room.”  I couldn’t help but laugh a bit on the inside.  Note, if you will, the furnishing and decor of said “man cave.”

I’m just saying, neither for good nor bad.

The world does not change.

 

Go AMERICA!

Tomorrow is the Fourth of July and I am psyched.  I mean literally. I love this holiday so, so much! I mean, yes, the BBQs and family and beach and fireworks are awesome.  Hanging out with my family is my favorite thing ever.  But that’s not why I love this holiday.  I love the Fourth of July because I LOVE my county.  I am so proud of being an American, I can’t even express it.  You’ll notice that’s a common theme in my blogs.  Let’s remember that I started this blog because of my trip to Ireland, but don’t let that fool you.  Ireland was awesome, but America is my home, my heart, my county.  It’s true, I’m not fond of everything this county does or of all of its values; however, I still couldn’t be prouder of where I’m from.  I refer you to both my post from the last July 4th (Oh Say Can You See?) or a couple of my posts from Ireland, the first where I taught America to my Middle Students (2nd Paragraph from Where HAS the time gone?!) or when I saw the bodies in St. Michan’s Church Crypt of the Irish Rebels (last 2 paragraphs from Here at the end of all things).  Heck, just click on the tag “America” on the main page of my blog and read all of the ones I’ve posted under that name.  I love my country.

I have noticed that going overseas has one of two effects on the average person.  In general, both sets of people will acknowledge the separate cultures they visit and create an appreciate and respect for them.  The first sort of people will leave their heart overseas, converting their loyalty to where ever it is that they visit.  This bothers me.  Yes appreciate, yes respect, yes love, but remember your roots.  I don’t ask that immigrants to this country forget where they are from.  I except that a person who moves here from Ireland will become American, but also keep their connection to their home country.  There are exceptions to this that I’m just not going to get into right now, because this is not a political blog, so we’ll leave that aside for later.  The second kind of effect overseas travel will have is when a person goes to another country and falls in love with the culture they find there, but they come home with a greater love for their own nation.

That is what happened to me.  I’ve always loved being an American, but now I am downright exuberant of it.  I love my God and my country.  I even love North Carolina more than I did before (which is saying something as I have always loved my state).

However, it wasn’t just overseas travel that increased my love for America.  Teaching has done that to me as well.  It was one thing to study American history as a student and appreciate it, but another thing altogether to impart this knowledge and information to children and teens.  Suddenly, I’m drawing conclusions and making connections and explaining their importance.  It makes me so excited to be able to say, “Look at this! Look what our Founding Fathers did! It was unprecedented, unimaginable, and nearly impossible–but they did it.”  I even now more appreciate the story of Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address (which by the way, today is the anniversary of the last day of that battle).  Before Lincoln gave that short little speech people would refer to the United State as a plural and say things like “The United States are a democracy.” Afterwards, whether because of that speech or because of the war in general, people referred to the country as a singular, such as, “The United States is a democracy.”  Also, think about our pledge of allegiance: “I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands ONE nation UNDER God, INDIVISIBLE with Liberty and Justice for all.” Have you ever thought about why Indivisible is in the pledge? It seems an odd word thrown in there.  It’s because of the Civil War.  I am a Southerner, and I am proud of that too, but the Civil War almost destroyed what the Revolutionary war built.  Afterwards, we realized that we are a people Indivisible.  We are United under our God and our government to stand strong together.  Amen.

I want to end this blog by expressing again the importance of what happened during the American Revolution. Can you imagine what the Founding Fathers felt when they voted on and signed the Declaration of Independence.  Had they failed in their intent, and by all accounts they should have, they had just knowingly and willingly committed an act of treason to the crown.  They had signed their own death warrant.  THINK ABOUT IT!! The Declaration of Independence could have been the Death Warrant of the 56 men who penned their names to it.  For many of them, it was.  Doesn’t that give new meaning to what they did? Doesn’t that hit it home? It is sobering.  I know that I am sobered by it.  And yet, they had confidence in it.  So strong was the confidence of my personal favorite Father, John Adams, that he wrote back to his wife Abigail on July 3, 1776 of the events of July 2 (the day we should actually celebrate the Independence Day, as that was the day the Declaration was adopted) of a great celebration that would continue in this country for the rest of history.  I am posting it hear for you to read carefully.  Read between his lines.  He is thrilled, but also afraid.  He is confident, but also realistic.  But his forethought is incredible.  He knows he is right, and he knows what he had just done.

The Delay of this Declaration to this Time, has many great Advantages attending it. The Hopes of Reconciliation, which were fondly entertained by Multitudes of honest and well meaning tho weak and mistaken People, have been gradually and at last totally extinguished. Time has been given for the whole People, maturely to consider the great Question of Independence and to ripen their Judgments, dissipate their Fears, and allure their Hopes, by discussing it in News Papers and Pamphletts, by debating it, in Assemblies, Conventions, Committees of Safety and Inspection, in town and County Meetings, as well as in private Conversations, so that the whole People in every Colony of the 13, have now adopted it, as their own Act. This will cement the Union, and avoid those Heats, and perhaps Convulsions which might have been occasioned, by such a Declaration Six Months ago.But the Day is past. The Second Day of July 1776, will be the most memorable Epocha, in the History of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfire and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more.

You will think me transported with Enthusiasm, but I am not. I am well aware of the Toil, and Blood, and Treasure that it will cost Us to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend these States. Yet, through all the Gloom, I can see the Rays of ravishing Light and Glory. I can see that the End is more than worth all the Means, and that Posterity will triumph in that Day’s Transaction, even though We should not rue it, which I trust in God We shall not.

God Bless America.

Interestingly, this painting is inaccurate and a scene such as this never took place, however, what a great representation of what it means to be American

Franklin, Adams, and Jefferson refining the Declaration

 

A Few Things I’m Tired of Hearing About

It’s been awhile, but I am feeling the need to post again.  As a social studies teacher, this may shock you, but I have stopped watching the news.  I am fed up with the media and what is portrayed on their stations.  With all of the news or whatnot that’s out right now, I feel the need to express just exactly when I’m tired of hearing about:

1) Michael Jackson. I’m sorry he’s dead, really I am, but let’s move on.  There are way more important things out there right now in this world than obsessing endlessly over the death of a fallen star.

2) Jon and Kate Plus 8. Or as I am calling them now “Jon and Kate plus 8 multiplied by paparazzi minus Jon divided by lawyers.” It not only makes me sad, but all this talking about it is, I believe, the root of everything.  Leave the poor people alone. And that’s all I’m saying

3) Barrak Obama as celebrity. He is the president of this country.  I could care less what show he went to with Michelle in NYC.  He does not need to be on E! but on CSPAN.  Stop putting him in the same category as Brangelina or the Jonas Brothers.  He is the president and I’d like to hear more about his policies than his swimsuit color choice.

4) The Recession/The Economy.  Would you like me to give you a simple overview how this whole recession thing started? Step One: before this county was technically in a recession, the media was whining about it.  Step Two: People freaked out.  Step Three: People stopped spending money.  Step Four: Places where people would have normally spent their money had to shut down.  Step Five: Other people lost their jobs.  Step Six: Those people stopped spending money.  Step Seven: The United States Government bought Chevrolet with the tax monies of those people who can’t afford to buy a car.  Ta da. Yes, it sucks, but seriously, stop talking about it.  When it gets to the level of the Great Depression, let me know.  Though if you’d watch MSNBC, they’ll tell you it’s already there.  For shame media.

5) The Phrase “How’s the job hunt going?”.  There is a hiring freeze in my school system. No one is hiring, no one is interviewing.  Our dear state government and governor can’t tell which way is up, much less plan a budget for next year—because it’s more important to spend money keeping the education lottery going rather than to spend money on keeping jobs for teachers.  I don’t have a job yet.  I’ll let you know when I do.

6) Twitter.

These are not, by far, the only things I’m tired of, but they are the biggies right now.  This weekend is the Fourth of July.  This holiday means so much more to me now that I’ve been in Ireland.  I love America more than I can express so I want to hear more about the good things in this country and those I can be proud of.  I want to hear about soldiers who are bravely doing their duty.  About families who are working for themselves to beat this economy.  About the politicians who are doing more than cheating on their wives. I want to know what is stimulating and thought provoking.  There needs to be more that encourages people to think, not sit mindlessly by and let the rest of the world pass.  I am seeking a better way.

 

Here at the end of all things

Oh wow.  In just a few short hours, I am going to be getting on a plane and flying south…and west….very, very far west.  I’ve come so far in 6 weeks that I hardly know how to begin.  Or end.  I guess I’ll start with my last whirlwind trip and my last day in one of my new favorite cities. (Also, sorry the last post and this one don’t have any pictures, my camera, and ergo my camera card, are packed.  They’ll be up soon.)

I decided on Saturday that I wanted to go to Belfast, and go I did.  I booked a train from Connolly Station in Dublin to take me the just over 2 hour trip to Northern Ireland’s capital.  On my previous trip North, when I went to the Giant’s Causeway and Derry, I had spent a grand total of about 30 minutes in Belfast, and most of that was inside the bus station, but I knew right then that I wanted to go back and explore more of the city.  The first thing I noticed was that Belfast is so obviously not Dublin.  What I mean by this is that the city itself just feels different.  Dublin is a globalized city that is growing quickly.  It is diverse(ish) and metropolitan and bustling.  Belfast contains elements of those as well, but there is a curtain hanging over the city of the intense history and troubles that the city has faced.  And even today, these troubles are completely gone.  The Protestant and Catholic sides of the city have these fences called “Peace Fences” which are closed and locked tight on nights and on weekends in order to ensure peace between the two sectors, which are literally right next to each other.   I could not help but get drawn into the city.  It was so rich and deep, I just wanted to take it all in.  I took a bus tour that drove around the city and gave its history, and then went on “The Belfast Wheel,” which is basically a miniature of the London Eye, and got a birds eye view of the city, along with about 13 minutes of commentary.  I was in a carriage alone, so it was another chance to just soak in what I saw.   However, as much as I was loving Belfast, Kathy (my host mom) suggested that I would really like this living history museum about a 15 minute train ride out of Belfast, so I decided to make time for that.  It turned out, that this was a very good thing.  The Ulster Folk and Transport Museum has quite literally transplanted a 19th century Northern Irish town and set it up.  There is the “town” section and a “rural” section (which felt like I had stepped back into time in the Irish countryside).  And, because it was the May Day Bank Holiday, they had May Day celebrations all throughout the “town.”  If you know me, you know I was right at home.  I spent a few hours there before making my way back to Belfast (ok quick side story: I didn’t really know where this museum was, so I went to the tourist office to ask how to get there; the lady told me the name of the stop I needed to get off of at the train, so I bought a ticket and made my way there.  Everything is fine and dandy, right? NO. I got off of the train at the Cultra stop and I thought I had gotten off at an abandoned station.  There were no attendants, no buildings, no nothing but track.  I was out in the middle of nowhere with no idea where I was supposed to be going and out of the country twice over–as Northern Ireland is in the United Kingdom.  Luckily just up the street was an Inn and Spa, the only building around for what seemed like miles and they were able to point me in the right direction, but I definitely had a minor meltdown for a minute there).  Back in Belfast, I walked around the city, just to see. It was incredible.  The history…I can’t even really put it into words, but it blew me away.  After a quick dinner, I made my way back to the train station to come back to the Republic of Ireland…and just a different world.  I’ve been reading this book about the history of Ireland and I just read about the 1916 Easter Rising and the struggles with men like Eamon de Valera and Michael Collins with the English, and then the beginnings of the Troubles in the North, and everything just becomes so much clearer.  Did you know that for a long time, Northern Ireland was the “most Irish” part of the country, and that’s why the Stuart kings started setting up English Plantations in the North and began to Anglicize it, making it the divided country it is today.  Suddenly, all of that is so much clearer to me.

Today, I went to Dublin for the last time of my trip.  There were a couple of things I wanted to do that I hadn’t had the chance to yet, so I thought I’d better.  First, was going to the crypt at St. Michan’s Church. It’s out in kind of a run down area of the city and so far out I hadn’t wanted to walk out before, but I have recently discovered the Luas, a trolley like system within the city, which had a stop like right in front of the church, so I went. Um ok, it was awesome.  There are some natural methane gasses and limestone in the crypt which have preserved the bodies almost perfectly in the coffins. There are four in particular that range from a couple hundred to 800 years old that you can see are just incredible.  The 800 year old body is a man who could have possibly been a Crusader, because he was buried with his legs crossed.  According to myth, it is good luck to shake his hand.  Now obviously, they wouldn’t let us shake his hand, but a slight graze of the finger is considered the same….so….I touched the hand of an 800 year old Crusader.  Awesome.  Not even kidding.  Then I went to the Decorative Arts and History Museum, which was just one Luas station next to St. Michan’s.  That was really cool too, just my kind of thing.  They had a really interesting exhibit on the 1916 Rising, which was perfect timing for me.

And now here I am, 11:24 at night and I fly out at 10:55 in the morning.  This has been a great trip.  I don’t feel changed, I’m not the kind of person who is going to change her entire life over one trip, but I am taking away something from it.  For one, I’ll be the only World History teacher in North Carolina to teach Irish history along with everything else, curriculum be damned.  For another, I’ve learned to travel alone and not panic.  I appreciate my Jeep much more too–I have taken 7 different forms of public transportation since I’ve been here.  And surprisingly enough, I appreciate American history much more.  I appreciate what we stand for and how far we’ve come in so short a time.  I appreciate what the American Revolution really accomplished.  There are two Irish “rebels” buried at St. Michan’s who lived at the same time of the American Revolution.  Our guide was telling us how they failed, were captured, hanged, drawn, and quartered (a gruesome process that I am going to spare you the details of if you don’t know them).  Had they succeeded and lived, they would have been known not as rebels but revolutionaries–as Founding Fathers.  Had our own Founding Fathers failed, they may have held the same fates as these two men rather than becoming writers of the Consititution, Presidents, Secretaries of the Treasury, Senators, ect.  But most of all, I’m going to take away a richness of culture that is so entrenched in its people that it exhudes from them.  That’s why I love the people here so much.  That’s why I’ve grown to love Ireland more than I thought I would.  That’s why I’ll be back.

 

Where HAS the time gone?!

So here I am, Sunday May 4, 2009; a mere 3 days before I board a plane to make the looooong truck back home.  I can’t believe it.  Really. It’s been crazy.  But…more on that later (and by later, I mean a future post, so keep looking over the next couple days–I’m not done yet!).

Since I’ve last written I’ve done a bit more travelling and a bit more teaching.  I’ve actually taught some pretty interesting lessons, if I do say so meself (that was an intentional “me,” just fyi).  First, I finished up the American Revolution with the Middles by having them perform a play about it that I found online. I divided them into 4 groups and each group did an act of it.  Then I showed them the Schoolhouse Rock clip again, and they all seemed to understand it much more this time.  They really seemed to enjoy it!  After that, they asked me all sorts of questions about America–anything was open.  I talked about the Amish, the Pledge of Allegiance, the Civil War, Presidential assassinations, really, everything was free game.  They were so curious and so interested, and I felt so proud of America to be able to talk about it with them.  When we were finished, the Middle Class teacher (who was also asking me questions) told me that she was very grateful that I was here to talk to them about it. “American history is not something they will ever get in school,” she said.   It was awesome, and probably the best time I had in the classroom whilst I’ve been here.

Then with junior class I did a science lesson on magnets.  There’s not much to say except that I think kids that age think that magnets are magic.  They were so amazed.  “Look Ms. Jones, I think this leaf is magnetic!” said one boy who had a paper clip stuck to one side of the leaf and the magnet was connecting to that.”  Basically, I gave them a worksheet I made that had little pictures on them and they had to use the magnets to see what was magnetic and what wasn’t.  Simple, not much planning, and they loved it.  Works for me.

Then, right up my alley, I got to teach a “unit” (i.e. two 45 minute lessons) on….wait for it…..PIRATES! Ok, so that was awesome…not gunna lie.  They are going to start reading Treasure Island next week, and I mentioned to the teacher that I took a course on piratical history in college and loved it, so she asked me to teach a history lesson on pirates.  I made it a myth v. fact kind of lesson.  And, the best part, it required no background research because I already knew everything.  All I did was make a powerpoint that had 9 true/false questions on it and them write down what they thought it was.  Then I went through each of them, saying if it was true or false and then showed a slide that may have had a quote from a pirate (such as one describing the taste of turtle), a copy of pirate’s articles that I had them read round-robin style, pictures or paintings, and even a recipe for hardtack.  The kids loved it.  Even the ones that normally give problems paid attention and really got into it.  I ended up talking so much and sharing so many neat little anecdotes that my throat was sore by the end (which actually, now that I think on it, may have been a precursor to the cold I’m not experiencing…no worries, it’s NOT swine flu.)  The second lesson was really more of an archeology lesson, where I talked about the importance of archeology by having them read an article from National Geographic about a pirate ship (the Whydah) which was the first pirate ship authenticated in the world, found off the coast of Cape Cod.  Then we talked about the article and I showed them a clip from the Nat. Geo. site about it (to give them a visual) and just had a nice discussion about pirates and archeology.  It was really neat.  And again, they got into it.

On my last day there, the whole school got together to say good-bye to me and all of the kids had made projects and cards to give to me before I left.  It was so awesome.  I really grew to love these kids, even though they aren’t exactly my age group.  Some of them were just so sweet and so special that I am going to miss them so much.  I gave them my home address and told them to practice their penmanship by writing me letters.

Now on travel:

Last weekend, obviously was very hard for me (see my post, “One Year”). I went into Dublin alone on Saturday to do some things I’d been meaning to do and just soak up the city.  It was kind of nasty and rainy that morning, so I went straight to a museum called “Dublinia” about Viking/medieval Dublin.  Then I went to City Hall where they had an exhibit set up about Dublin’s history.  Very cool.  By the time I left City Hall, it was bright and sunny, so I decided to spend some time outside.  I made my way to Grafton Street via Temple Bar (i.e. the long way) and went into a couple shops here and there, then I went to St. Stephens Green, a park, and just sat for a while and wrote in my journal.  It was nice.  I decided then and there that I really love Dublin.  It’s such a great city, and I hope this will not be my last time here.  Last Sunday, I took another PaddyWagon tour to the ancient Glendalough monastery and the town of Kilkenny.  It was super nice and really lovely.  While I was in Kilkenny, a random guy, who was quite nice looking, stopped me and started talking to me.  I kept to the small talk and then kept walking…and felt like an idiot later–guess I passed up my chance for Irish love–HAHA!  Friday, I went into town with the other American students and we celebrated our last day of school with dinner at a nice pub where they were playing Irish music and then to Hard Rock.  Yesterday, Kathleen and Rachel and I went to the Dublin Zoo. That was fun, I love zoos.

A few more things: my family is awesome.  They’ve been so great about everything and it has been a blessing to be living with them.  The weather, not awesome.  It is soo cold and pretty wet.  I miss the heat soooooo badly.  I can’t wait to go to the beach when I get home.

Well anyway, I’ve got to be up early tomorrow for a whistle-stop trip to Belfast–I’ll let y’all know how that goes when I’m back! Good night world!! (Pictures are also to come soon, so hurry back!!)

 

Teaching in Ireland

Ok, so we all remember I’m here for a student teaching experience, right?  I know I’d almost forgotten with all of the hubbub of traveling and such, but there was no forgetting when I went straight back into the classroom this Monday!

This time around, I taught the Middle class (2nd, 3rd, and 4th class), which is approximately the same as 3rd-5th grades in the States.  I have come to the decision that this is my favorite of the three classes.  The Junior class is fun and they are super cute, but they are WAY too young for me…but more on that in a bit.  Senior class….well….more on them in a minute too.  (See what I’m doing there, creating suspense so you’ll keep reading.  Yes I’m that good.)

Anyway, back to Middle Class.  They are my faves for two main reasons: 1) They are by far the sweetest of the classes.  They always greet me in the mornings like there is no one else they would rather see in the day, and they give me hugs and love on me.  From this class, I have received cards and pictures.  They are precious (well most of them).  2) They are old enough that I can have a real conversation with them, but they are young enough to where they aren’t super cocky.  They know they aren’t kings and queens of the school yet, and so they are by far more humble because of it.  Most of them also still have that desire to be in school, which is always nice for a teacher.  I taught them a similar lesson that I did for Senior class before Easter on the American Revolution (See my blog, “Brilliant Lesson, Ms. Jones!” , but I replaced The Patriot with Schoolhouse Rock’s “The Shot Heard Round the World“–a more appropriate clip for the younger ones.  I also had to “dumb” down the lesson a bit.  Even though I would say that these are my favorite kids, I do miss being able to ask critical thinking questions, like I can with 5th and 6th class.  Most Middle class hasn’t quite gotten to that analytical thinking skill yet, and as my teaching style is largely a question-based discussion, I found that to be difficult with them.  However, it went well and I enjoyed it.  I had them draw political cartoons at the end of the lesson, and I have no intention of giving them back, I want to keep them to remember my students by.

On Wednesday, I did what I had been dreading since I got here: I taught Junior class.  Don’t get me wrong, I love them, I really do, but I am NOT cut out to teach 5 year olds.   Seriously.  I will play with them all day long, but when I am in a classroom, I want to encourage learning, and I just don’t know how to do it with them.  For them, I decided to just talk about America.  I started out the lesson by showing them a 5 Euro note and 1 Euro coin and then had them describe them to me.  Then I pulled out a $5 bill and a $1 bill and told them that they were the same as their Euros and had them tell me how they were different.  Then I read them a book I had brought with me that was called “America: A Patriotic Primer” that used the ABC’s to talk about different aspects, history, and values in America.  I got them to tell me what the next letter was going to be, and some of them really got into it.  Then , in the end, I had them color a picture of the American flag and write “America” at the top (to practice penmanship).  It was kind of a mess, but I survived it.  And again, I have something to remember them by.

Then today, I taught my last lesson for the week: an art lesson.  Yes.  I’m not kidding.  My first three lesson had been great because they were history lessons and right up my alley.  I was back in Middle Class, and being as I am, I’m sure you can imagine that I wasn’t going to let an art lesson get away without putting some history into it.    I decided that I was going to teach about Michelangelo and the Sistine Chapel ceiling.  I talked about Michelangelo and who he was as an artist, and showed them pictures of the Sistine Chapel.  Then I told them about his scaffolding and how he had to paint either standing up and looking towards the ceiling or lying on his back.  So I had them tape a sheet of paper underneath their desks and lie on the floor.  Then they painted like they were Michelangelo. It was actually pretty cool.  Art is chaotic (which makes me understand art majors a bit more…haha…just kidding, love you guys) but it is fun.   Of course, when I told them what they were doing, it was kind of like, “Seriously? I think Ms. Jones is crazy,” at least at first.  In the end, though, the kids really seemed to eat it up.

Ok, back to what I was saying about Senior class.  Some of them are really good kids, and I mean that.  But pre-teen is a difficult age as it is.  Now I understand why 6th graders are more often the bottom of the totem pole in the States; it keeps them humble.  These kids are about the same as 6th and 7th grade and being at the top of the school is bad news.  They know they are at the top of the school and they act like it.  It doesn’t help that the school is so small (about 56 students) and the staff is forced to give them responsibilities in helping out the younger kids.  They know they have power.  They are all (minus a handful) arrogant and walk around all day with their chests puffed out.  Some of them are downright rude and disrespectful.  I would love to stick some of them in the middle school I went to (Neal in Durham) for a day.  Some of them who think they are king here wouldn’t last 5 minutes there.  I know that going off to secondary school in the next year or two will humble them up, and they need it.  All of that being said, however, I do like the class.  They are funny and entertaining, and some of them are really sweet kids.  They are smart too, doing math that I certainly didn’t do in 6th or 7th grade–heck, math I don’t even do now.

I can’t believe that tomorrow is Friday and it will be a week before my last day, May 1st (May 4th and 5th are bank holidays and I fly out on the 6th).  This trip has just flown by! I know I am going to miss it so much, but part of me is ready to get home.  Now that I’m in the process of filling out job apps and answering questions like “What are your plans for teaching strategies?” I cannot wait to have my own classroom.

Things to be look for in the next week: I’m going back into Dublin this Saturday and may be taking another day trip on Sunday.  I’m teaching…yikes!!!!….science (of all subjects) to the Juniors next week and the history of piracy two days to the Seniors (now that’s more like it.) Until then,  May the sun shine warm upon your face; the rains fall soft upon our fields and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

**Just a note of clarification for these pictures.  They are all of the Junior Classroom.  In this class, there are three different “grades” if you will.  Junior infants, the youngest, begin school at about 4; they are like our pre-k or kindergarten.  Senior infants, about 5 or 6 years old, are like 1st grade.  Finally, the oldest ones in the classroom, 1st class, are 6 or 7, and are like our 2nd grade.

 

After Election Night…

This is from Al Mohler who is President of Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. I do not think it could be worded any better.

The election of Sen. Barack Obama as the 44th President of the United States came as a bang, not a whimper. The tremors had been perceptible for days, maybe even weeks. On Tuesday, America experienced nothing less than a political and cultural earthquake.

The margin of victory for the Democratic ticket was clear. Americans voted in record numbers and with tangible enthusiasm. By the end of the day, it was clear that Barack Obama would be elected with a majority of the popular vote and a near landslide in the Electoral College. When President-Elect Obama greeted the throngs of his supporters in Chicago’s Grant Park, he basked in the glory of electoral energy.

For many of us, the end of the night brought disappointment. In this case, the disappointment is compounded by the sense that the issues that did not allow us to support Sen. Obama are matters of life and death — not just political issues of heated debate. Furthermore, the margin of victory and sense of a shift in the political landscape point to greater disappointments ahead. We all knew that so much was at stake.

For others, the night was magical and momentous. Young and old cried tears of amazement and victory as America elected its first African-American President — and elected him overwhelmingly. Just forty years after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, an African-American stood to claim victory as President-Elect of the nation. As Sen. Obama assured the crowd in Chicago and the watching nation, “We will get there. We will get there.” No one hearing those words could fail to hear the refrain of plaintive words spoken in Memphis four decades ago. President-Elect Obama would stand upon the mountaintop that Dr. King had foreseen.

That victory is a hallmark moment in history for all Americans — not just for those who voted for Sen. Obama. As a nation, we will never think of ourselves the same way again. Americans rich and poor, black and white, old and young, will look to an African-American man and know him as President of the United States. The President. The only President. The elected President. Our President.

Every American should be moved by the sight of young African-Americans who — for the first time — now believe that they have a purchase in American democracy. Old men and old women, grandsons and granddaughters of slaves and slaveholders, will look to an African-American as President.
Regardless of politics, could anyone remain unmoved by the sight of Jesse Jackson crying alone amidst the crowd in Chicago? This dimension of Election Day transcends politics and touches the heart of the American people.

Yet, the issues and the politics remain. Given the scale of the Democratic victory, the political landscape will be completely reshaped. The fight for the dignity and sanctity of unborn human beings has been set back by a great loss, and by the election of a President who has announced his intention to sign the Freedom of Choice Act into law. The struggle to protect marriage against its destruction by redefinition is now complicated by the election of a President who has declared his aim to repeal the Defense of Marriage Act. On issue after issue, we face a longer, harder, and more protracted struggle than ever before.

Still, we must press on as advocates for the unborn, for the elderly, for the infirm, and for the vulnerable. We must redouble our efforts to defend marriage and the integrity of the family. We must be vigilant to protect religious liberty and the freedom of the pulpit. We face awesome battles ahead.
At the same time, we must be honest and recognize that the political maps are being redrawn before our eyes. Will the Republican Party decide that conservative Christians are just too troublesome for the party and see the pro-life movement as a liability? There is the real danger that the Republicans, stung by this defeat, will adopt a libertarian approach to divisive moral issues and show conservative Christians the door.

Others will declare these struggles over, arguing that the election of Sen. Obama means that Americans in general — and many younger Evangelicals in particular — are ready to “move on” to other issues. This is no time for surrender or the abandonment of our core principles. We face a much harder struggle ahead, but we have no right to abandon the struggle.

We should look for opportunities to work with the new President and his administration where we can. We must hope that he will lead and govern as the bridge-builder he claimed to be in his campaign. We must confront and oppose the Obama administration where conscience demands, but work together where conscience allows.

Evangelical Christians face another challenge with the election of Sen. Obama, and a failure to rise to this challenge will bring disrepute upon the Gospel, as well as upon ourselves. There must be absolutely no denial of the legitimacy of President-Elect Obama’s election and no failure to accord this new President the respect and honor due to anyone elected to that high office. Failure in this responsibility is disobedience to a clear biblical command.

Beyond this, we must commit ourselves to pray for this new President, for his wife and family, for his administration, and for the nation. We are commanded to pray for rulers, and this new President faces challenges that are not only daunting but potentially disastrous. May God grant him wisdom. He and his family will face new challenges and the pressures of this office. May God protect them, give them joy in their family life, and hold them close together.

We must pray that God will protect this nation even as the new President settles into his role as Commander in Chief, and that God will grant peace as he leads the nation through times of trial and international conflict and tension.

We must pray that God would change President-Elect Obama’s mind and heart on issues of our crucial concern. May God change his heart and open his eyes to see abortion as the murder of the innocent unborn, to see marriage as an institution to be defended, and to see a host of issues in a new light. We must pray this from this day until the day he leaves office. God is sovereign, after all.

Without doubt, we face hard days ahead. Realistically, we must expect to be frustrated and disappointed. We may find ourselves to be defeated and discouraged. We must keep ever in mind that it is God who raises up nations and pulls them down, and who judges both nations and rulers. We must not act or think as unbelievers, or as those who do not trust God.

America has chosen a President. President-Elect Barack Obama is that choice, and he faces a breathtaking array of challenges and choices in days ahead. This is the time for Christians to begin praying in earnest for our new President. There is no time to lose.

 

102 Minutes

I beg you all not to forget what today is and what it’s significance has become.  September 11 truely was the 102 minutes that changed this country.  So many needlessly lost their lives for nothing.  Don’t begrudge those that still lose their lives for us every day.   It happened only 7 years ago and so many have already forgotten.  Please I just ask you to remember where you were when you found out and how you felt.  I don’t care if you are Republican or Deomocrat.  I don’t care if you are black or white or anthing in between.  This impacted all of us.  Don’t forget.  I pray none of us ever do…

September 11, 2001
2,974 fatalities
2603 NYC Citizens, including 411 emergency workers
88 on American 11
59 on United 175
125 at the Pentagon, including 55 military personal
59 on American 77
40 on United 93

102 minutes

 

“Now, we have inscribed a new memory alongside those others. It’s a memory of tragedy and shock, of loss and mourning. But not only of loss and mourning. It’s also a memory of bravery and self-sacrifice, and the love that lays down its life for a friend–even a friend whose name it never knew. “
- President George W. Bush, December 11, 2001

 

Oh Say Can You See?

Did you know that the tune to the Star-Spangled Banner was originally the tune to a drinking song?  It makes sense if you think about it because I’m pretty sure that some of those notes are only confidently “hit” by someone drunk enough to attempt them.  Also, that song has four verses. Look up the rest of them, they are pretty incredible.  The second one even answers the question that the first verse asks – see there, I bet some of you didn’t even realize that the 1st verse ended with a question mark.

Right up there with Christmas, the Fourth of July is my favorite holiday.  I love dressing up like a flag – yes, I’ve done it for years.  Back when I was a little girl I had a red and white striped skirt I would wear with a Tshirt that had stars on it.  Even right now I’ve got a flag scarf in my hair.  I love the cookouts and spending time with the family.  And of course, not to mention the fireworks (of course, tonight my brother decided it would be a fun idea to put on a show of his own, but in a development with plenty of cars, houses, powerlines, and people, that he scared the crap out of me) But even more importantly, this holiday reminds me to be so thankful for our military.  They have been the backbone of this country since July 4, 1776.  I know you’ve heard this same old line a million times, but be thankful for our military.  They give their lives for our freedom and the right we have to have those so-called freedoms.  We are the luckiest country on earth because of the men that fought for us and continue to till this day.  I would like to, therefore put forth a challenge for you.  When you see someone in uniform in a resturant or walking down the street or in a store or anywhere, stop.  Shake their hand and tell them “thank you”.  It may very well be the first time they’ve heard it from anyone.  They deserve that much from us, if nothing else.  I could keep going on and write a long eloquent blog post about this or I could start going off on the history of the Fourth of July (John Adams predicted to his wife Abigal in a letter the day the Declaration was signed that 4 July would be a day celebrated by Americans for centuries to come) but I’m not going to.  Rather, I’ll end with Happy Independence Day!  If you see an Englishman, don’t be afraid to run up to them and stick your tounge out.  It was kind of pathetic that the greatest army in the world lost to a bunch of hick-colonist-farmers.  Haha, just kidding.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AMERICA!