Ready? Get set... Wait!

I am in a holding pattern of sorts, waiting for my Washington State teaching certificate. The process is complex, with many required documents, references, forms, exams, and cash outlays. I appreciate why many professionals refuse to stray further than their first professional leash will allow. The  tedious redundancy and expense of crossing state or international borders is ridiculous.
At the very least I will need to sit two two-part tests to teach elementary school. Should I wish to venture into middle school (yes, I'm that crazy), I must take up to an additional four.  The first two-part test determines if I can read, write, and do extremely basic math. (God help us if our universities produce graduates that don't have this! Note: one needs to graduate from college to earn the right to take this first test. It seems we can't be too careful. Even Illinois insists on this one. Yes, I passed it there. No, it doesn't matter.) The second two-part test ensures I know how to teach. I passed that one in Illinois, too. Guess what else doesn't matter?
So I've decided to stop applying for jobs only to hear nothing back, most likely because I don't have a certificate yet. It seems my mind is happy to fill the ensuing silence with relentless self-depricatory remarks. Entering an interview with such uncertainty does very little for my self-confidence. I've never had much of a poker face. In my heart I know I am a good teacher. I know I love to do it and my students can tell. So, I'm doing my best not to choke up when seeing the piles of back-to-school supplies. My teaching-self is on sabbatical in one of the most beautiful places on Earth.

Still, some parts of moving stink.

Feed me!

Mouse caught a fly and fed it to Samster. Freaky,

Gifts

It's no secret that teachers get gifts. I've given many over the past decade as my girls have progressed through school. When gift selection was heavily influenced by me we gave house plants, baked goods, or gift cards. The girls, on the other hand, have preferred to select oddities like LED-lit snowmen, #1 Teacher coffee mugs, and hot-pink, rose-scented candles. Eventually we have gravitated to a happy medium where teachers receive something that reflects the gratitude of both parent and student. This year it was Ghirardelli chocolates and Starbucks gift cards. I have to admit I gave with a bit of personal longing.

While not unexpected, it is somewhat bizarre to be on the receiving end of teacher gifts for the first time. The following is a quick summary of my loot by category:

• Biggest: a giant, stuffed, red M&M
• Smallest: a sticker of Dory from finding Nemo ("Just keep swimming!"-- the perfect first-year teacher motto)
• Most frequent: hand-drawn portraits of me and/or the gift giver (I consistently have an unusually large head and a big smile.)
• Second most frequent: candles, soap, & lotion
• Most quickly consumed: chocolate in all its forms
• Most unusual: a Venus Fly Trap 
• Most cozy: a micro-fleece throw
• Most practical: socks
• Most thoughtful: the Wordle

A Wordle is a word cloud. The one above was created using adjectives and role descriptors that my students chose from a list to describe me. My mentor then entered the words onto the Wordle website to create this treasure. Larger words were ones most selected; smaller words were outliers, though no less poignant. In my case 'happy' and 'brave' were clear leaders. 'Bossy' was among the smallest. Funny, I'd have made that last one bigger. Interesting how it turned out to be a bit fish-shaped, eh?

Of course, the best gift of all is getting to teach 5th grade all over again. For a while it sounded like I'd be changing schools and grades, but the chips have fallen in my favour. Perhaps next year I won't have to work evenings and weekends for months at a time. Perhaps not. Regardless, I will get to build on what I've learned while working with some of the best teachers and students I could ever hope for. Onward, ho!

Survival Tactics...or not.

I asked my departing students to write a note to their 4th grade replacements on how best to succeed in Mrs. Miller's 5th grade class. Many decided to express their incorrigible senses of humour instead. Here is a montage of their advice.

1. Always use red pen.
2. Never double space your writing.
3. If she writes a number in your planner, you get a piece of candy.
4. When she says, "Give me five," talk louder.
5. When she says, "If you can hear my voice clap three times," hit your neighbour three times--hard.
6. Use your 'Out of Control' voice when you speak.  Mrs. Miller can be a little deaf.

Haleakala

Haleakala as viewed from our oceanside resort. 

The crater at the top of the now dormant Haleakala Volcano on Maui is large and deep enough to hide Manhattan. We passed up the opportunity to watch the sunrise from its rim simply due to the 2:30am wakeup call. Instead we opted for a late morning excursion that had us coasting down her wide flanks on bicycles with blessedly strong brakes.

Haleakala Crater

Haleakala Crater II
The sandy hills are former lava vents.

A cold wind pummelled us at the top, sending the girls and I running for the glassed in viewing shelter. I'd hate to think what it felt like at 5am! Thankfully the tour company had leant us rain/wind gear. The bike ride down started three thousand feet lower so there was no risk of us being blown off course into oblivion. 

Hams on Haleakala

The surrounding terroir changed dramatically from top to bottom: sun, rain, sun and rain; arid stretches with only scrub grasses, cacti, and prickly shrubs; towering pines and eucalyptus groves giving way to fields of cattle and sugar cane; thick rain forest that had me humming 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight" and longing for a machete (to slash through the undergrowth, not slay lion!). A far more fit person might aspire to biking up that diva. That ship has sailed for this rider. We all had a great time and would highly recommend it. Kudos to the Captain for not ditching us in search of a thrill ride and to the kiddos for not a single wipe out.