Five Senses of Appreciation

It's Teacher Appreciation Week. And boy, do I ever feel appreciated.

On Monday, I arrived to school and was given a gigantic, poster card signed by all my students. My eyes feasted on the sweet notes and drawings put there by 26 kids I will simply never forget:
"You rocked out my fifth grade year!"
"I'll never forget you!"
"You are like a mom to me. I love you so much!"
One girl even took the time to draw out individual letters on taped together index cards. She said that the letters spell out a word that describes me and she is giving me one each day this week. She gave me "M," "G," and "A" before I figured out that the word is "AMAZING."
On my worst day, on my hardest, most difficult, most patient-deficient day, I will read these words and will get a shot of 100% pure encouragement.

On Tuesday, I arrived to school and my students filed in, each carrying a flower. My nose took in the sweet smell of light pink peonies, fresh lavender, bright blue irises, and deep red roses all bursting into bloom. Each time I get a whiff of that gorgeous handpicked spring bouquet on my desk, I smile because I know I am loved.

Today, on Wednesday, I finished a long day. The bane of my existence is figuring out what to eat for dinner. But I didn't even have to think about it tonight, because my precious room mom cooked up a taste bud-tingling meal of fresh caprese, cannelini beans with fresh basil and tomato, and a whole loaf of chewy, crunchy sourdough bread. I ate that meal and was filled up - not just with food, but with gratitude.

Each day I've felt the big hugs from the kids in my class. I feel the smile lines around my eyes getting a little bit deeper. I feel my heart growing bigger with the love that I feel for each one of these unique children that God placed in my life this year.

I'm not sure what the rest of the week holds, but I know it's going to be difficult to feel any more appreciated.

Now I know:
My work to me is not a job. It is my joy.

My Fireworks :)

One day PS22 is singing at the Oscars, the next...Stone Academy!!!




Now I know: I already miss my class and hate that they are leaving me for 6th grade!!!

More Laughs than a Stack of Comic Books

Teaching 10 year olds makes me laugh harder than imitating You Tube videos, playing Catchphrase with my sisters, or watching a Will Ferrell movie combined.

Not only do my students make silly faces and tell hilarious stories, they tend to shout out ridiculous comments that make scripted lines seem lifeless and phony. They will put rubber pencil grips on the end of their noses during a spelling test, just because. Made-up songs and dances are commonplace at recess. Some are dumb, but some of them are truly funny-bone-tickling.

I'm telling you, 10 year olds know true entertainment.

Just today, I had two double-whammy shout-outs, one so funny that I actually had to quickly step out of the room to take a breath so I could keep my composure.

This morning as we talked about WWII, we were discussing the Allied Powers. I said something about the United Kingdom. One of my girls, a chronic shouter-outer, screams, "I'VE BEEN THERE!!!" I'm pretty sure this particular child hasn't left Greenville county, much less been to Europe, but I decided to humor her. "Wow! Really? When?" I asked politely. "My dad took me when I was little," she said as she nodded for extra emphasis. "Really...hmm...do you remember that long 8 hour plane ride?" I questioned.

"Oh no...we didn't fly," she said assuredly. "He drove us."

Then, later on today, we were discussing the Leaning Tower of Pisa for a reading assignment. I approached the lesson by asking my kids to brainstorm with a partner all the things they already knew about this topic. Then we shared as a class and I wrote their answers on the board. Most of my kids had pretty solid answers, like "It's leaning!" (YES!!) or, "It's in Italy!" One brainiac even explained that it was built on soft soil, which caused it to start tilting. I eavesdropped on someone wondering if Leonardo da Vinci had designed the tower during the brainstorming (which was totally a good guess), so I asked, "Does anyone know who designed the Leaning Tower of Pisa?"

"GEORGE W. BUSH!" my chronic shouter outer shouted.

My kids lost it. I lost it. Even my shouter outer started giggling at herself.

Now I know:
Republicans clearly don't make the best architects.
AND
I need to review the world's oceans and recent political figures.

Red Lipstick, Red Carpet

When I waited tables during my college years, a girl affectionately nicknamed "Nazi Nikki" commanded me to always wear big earrings and bright lipstick. She told me it would guarantee me bigger tips. It makes me sound a little bit hooker-ish, but I'm telling you, Nazi Nikki was right. The nights I wore red lipstick to waitress I absolutely made more money!

When I wrote my post about our school's Big Show, I neglected to include the side story regarding one of my accessory choices.

No, it wasn't a necklace or a headband. Not a pair of brightly colored shoes with my mandated all-black ensemble. Because I had not showered that day, I decided that curling my hair and putting on some red lipstick would make me look a little more glam for my five minutes on stage.

Well, I was absolutely overwhelmed by the enthusiastic positive (and sometimes negative) responses of the students and even some parents to that red lipstick. Here's a quick recap of some of the comments I got last Tuesday:

"Ms. Grimsley! You don't look like yourself!"

"I think she look like a Barbie...kinda."

"You look so glamorous...just like Anne Hathaway!"

"I love that red lipstick! Wow!"

"Your face is scarin' me. You look like a vampire." (Gotta love kids' honesty!)

"Ms. Grimsley, You workin' the lipstick girl!"

"You looked fabulous last night at the Big Show with that RED lipstick and fancy hair-do!! I love it... you looked like a movie star!"

Well, as I sit here watching actors and actresses on the red carpet, I've been noticing myself criticizing so many of their wardrobe and accessory choices.

I think Reese Witherspoons' black dress with the white strip at the top was totally 90s looking. I think Amy Adams sparkly navy blue dress is frump-a-dump. Kirk Douglas's ears are HUUUUUUUGE! (I do realize ears are not an accessory, but his kind of could be counted as such!)

Anyway, being a 5th grade teacher is certainly not a red carpet job...and after my five minutes on stage, I'm glad it's not!

Now I know:
I'm thankful my normal wardrobe consists of khakis and a cardigan.

Dr. Suess Gets Jiggy With It

Many of y'all know that I teach at an arts magnet school. You may have even heard me blabbing on and on recently about the phenomenal production that we put on every spring. We call it "The Big Show."



No...not THAT Big Show.

It's a singing, dancing, acting sort of show that stars 505 six through eleven year old children that go to Stone Academy. The teachers also have a special part in the finale song, which this diva absolutely loves.

This year's theme was "Oh, the Places You'll Go," which contained a script based on the Dr. Suess book. I'm telling you, these kids brought the book to life!


Now hold on a second. I can tell what you're doing. Please try to stop yourself from picturing that lame-o church play with the fat kid picking his nose on the front row, the girl twirling her skirt near the back, and everyone else in between waving frantically at their parents.

Oh no. That would never happen at our Big Show. This is no ordinary school play. This is such a big deal that we rent out McAlister Auditorium at Furman - which this FU alumna absolutely loves.


The kids are so well trained that if someone pukes or faints or falls off the risers - the rest of them just keep looking straight ahead and continue singing. I've watched it happen. Their focus is almost unbelievable.

I am a tough critic - very hard to impress - and every year I get teary-eyed at the finale. The angelic sound of those childrens' voices, the pride of their parents radiating out from the auditorium, and the combined sheer delight at having worked so hard to accomplish something so beautiful...it just gets me every time.

This year the finale song was "Climb Every Mountain," which is ironic since Liza just recently wrote a blog entry about The Sound of Music (one of my favs too Liiz, obvi!) :) As the kids sang out the last phrase, "Til you find your dream" their little hands went up and then out in perfect coordination.

They were all beaming as the audience bounded to their feet and gave a roaring standing ovation. We had to bow three times before the clapping started to slow down.

Now...I won't lie. Getting to this point wasn't easy. No way. This took months and months of practice and self-discipline. This took energy and effort beyond the scope of the average audience member's imagination. This took patience, oh-so-much patience from our related arts team of teachers.

And herein lies the message of today's post.

If itty bitty children can show that much self-control, practice that hard, work together beautifully, and produce and absolutely outstanding result - what is wrong with us grown-ups?

Why can't we get along?
Look at the mess in Libya. Look at the mess in Congress. Look at the mess in most of our families over the holidays.

Why can't we show self-control?
I know the devil on my shoulder wins more times than not when a kid is passing out cupcakes for his birthday. I talk myself out of exercising like an absolute expert. I put off grading papers until my book bag won't zip.

Why can't we work together?
Grown-ups become opinionated, prideful, and selfish. We all think we know best. Just think back to your last experience driving on Woodruff Road at 5:00 pm on a Friday. Uh huh.

Why can't we make beautiful things, instead of harboring selfishness, fueling hatred, drawing lines that divide, and sowing seeds of discontent?

Why can't we climb every mountain til we find our dreams - all while still considering that everyone around us has dreams, too?

Now I know:
Standing on risers ain't for sissies. Neither is finding your dream.

Green Colored Glasses

Maybe I'm just seeing life through green colored glasses.

But this...this has been a good week. I might even call it a lucky week.

One of my darling, thoughtful, adorable students, Rhavon, brought me a bouquet of gorgeous flowers for no reason at all. Actually she said "It's because you're the greatest teacher in the world."


I got to witness my kids' amazing creativity while they created collages inspired by the work of Romare Bearden. These collages show all they know about the new technology of the 1920s, the Harlem Renaissance, the Great Migration, discrimination, Prohibition, and the Great Depression. Just wait til they finish. These are true masterpieces.


I did a "Just Dance" dance with one of my sweet girls to her singing Ke$ha's "Tic Toc" at recess. We laughed and laughed and started planning a big end of the year party for our class when we can hook up a Wii to the Promethean Board!

I laughed until I cried at a Science Fair folder that had "Thongs" (see # 10) on the list of needed materials. (Second place goes to "Stuffin' Junk" as the most hilariously inappropriate title).


I had a fantastic interview for the Upstate Writing Project's Summer Institute and am already planning what kinds of projects I'll create if I get in. Absolutely can't wait.

I got ALL my grading done. I mean ALL of it. That never happens.

I made my mom's marinara sauce and enjoyed dinner with of my most favorite friends, Dan and Mollye. What a wonderful respite from "dinner for one!"

I ran 7 miles and did a kickboxing class at the gym. Feeling so sore that I can hardly walk. I love this feeling. It's a feeling of accomplishment, of growth, of progress.

My lifelong bff Liza "LuLu" Morgan chose ME as her "Friday Face" for her blog - which is AMAZING. Check it out: http://yayalulu.blogspot.com/ She is an incredible writer and friend. I feel so happy and so honored to be chosen!

And now...the pièce de résistance....the weatherman's calling for snow. This is my lucky week. I'm seeing a 2 hour delay in my future.

All this, and it's only Wednesday!!!

Now I know:
Life isn't just good. It's a gift.

Student Sunshine

I woke up today with a headache. A real eye-slicer - right above the brows.

I was in the kind of bad mood that no number of diet cokes can cure. I had to be at school by 7:15 for morning duty so I could be the quiet police for the kids that eat breakfast in the cafeteria. My backpack was so heavy with papers to grade that I was hunched over like Quasimodo. I had slept with my hair wet and the flat iron only made the pieces sticking out look like tree branches. I felt thrown-together. Rushed. Ready for a nap as soon as my eyes opened.

Well, the first ray of sunshine hit me at about 9:00. We were practicing math problems on our white boards. Before I could make it back to the front of my room, one of the little girls in my class, Eboni, raises her whiteboard to let me see what she had written. It said "LOVE YOU MOM!" (She always calls me Mom. She tells me it's because "We's a family. You's our Mom and we's yo kids.") The clouds of my bad mood parted and my heart felt all melty like a hershey kiss that's been in your pocket.

The second ray of sunshine hit me as we went down the stairs to P.E. "You look so glamorous today, Ms. G," said Harriet. "She looks glamorous every day," said Sydney. Even with sticky-up tree hair, my girls think I'm glamorous. My heart was now more like chocolate fondue.

And then at lunch, all the clouds parted and my students' sunshine thawed out my bad mood completely. Bettye Sue began to tell me about a book she is reading called "Out of My Mind." It's about a girl that is completely paralyzed. "She can't talk or move or anything," Bettye Sue said. "So everyone thinks she's retarded. But she's like the smartest person in the world! Then this other girl comes along to help her. Her name is Katherine. When I'm reading I totally picture you when it talks about Katherine. She's so sweet and helps everyone just like you." That did it. My heart was a steaming mug of hot cocoa, warming me up from the inside, melting the headache and worries that had plagued me since 6:00 a.m.

My students are incredible. They give me hugs every day. They shower me with compliments. They laugh at my corny jokes and sit attentively for my stories. They clap for my writing and silly dance moves. They sing with me on Fridays. They get me diet cokes from the refrigerator in the break room. They write me sweet notes. They would do anything to make me proud.

Now I know: My students are my sunshine.