Beach Vacation: Day 2

Sorry, too tired for pics tonight.  Just a quick overview.

Woke up and enjoyed the breakfast buffet at our hotel.  I was hoping to get us to the zoo by 9am when it opened (I find that most kid places are the best in the morning because they're not as busy), but the shuttle was unavailable until 9am.  So we vegged out in the room for a bit (we're early risers), grabbed the shuttle, and caught the MAX rail in (with a quick rail switch at Rose Quarter).  I just love the public transit here!  So fast and easy.  Didn't have to deal with traffic, taking kids in and out of carseats, or parking (or getting lost!).  Plus, when you ride to the zoo you get to get on and off in a cool tunnel!  The forecast read 59-61 degrees (depending on the source) and 90% chance of rain so we packed accordingly.  But we lucked out!  We enjoyed the zoo until early afternoon with barely a drizzle (and several episodes of sunshine!).  We had hoped, however, that the weather might deter other visitors (and thus were looking forward to a nice quiet mid-week visit to the zoo) but it's school-zoo-visit week and it was a MADHOUSE!  Kids everywhere!  That made it a bit stressful (just keeping an eye on everyone and pushing through the crowds), but we still had a good time.  Addie and Hayden's favorite was the sea lion and I fell in love with the new baby elephant, Lily.  Adorable!

We ventured out right as the rain hit (I think around 3pm) and then stopped downtown for a bite.  By then we were rather tired and hungry (and caught in the rain), so we just grabbed the closest place - Qdoba.  Fueled up and then caught the train back to the hotel (Hayden crashed out on the way).

Next item on the agenda?  The hottub of course!  It's the only place Addie continues to request.  Loren played with the kids while I read (the SEVEN books I have to read for 2 5-week summer classes has me in a bit of a panic) and then we mosied back to the room for some more quiet time until we were hungry enough to head back out.  I decided to take us on a little driving adventure to see what we could find, so we meandered through quite a bit of industrial area until we came to a few neighborhoods.  We still weren't finding anything tantalizing, so I checked Urban Spoon and found us a barbecue joint in Boise (had to be good, right?) called Russell Street Bar-B-Que.  And it was delicious!  Loren enjoyed pork chops while I had pulled pork (yum!); Addie had a sampler of mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, and fries; and Hayden mostly enjoyed dipping fries in ketchup (mac and cheese too), barbecue sauce, and peach chutny.

We're now settled back in at the hotel and the kids are laughing uncontrollably at Garfield (it's way too late, I know, but hey, it's vacation).  Tomorrow we head to the beach!

Beach Trip: Day 1

Had master plans to wake up at 4am -- we tried the overnight driving thing with the kids 3 years ago and it was AWFUL!! -- last 2 long road trips we tried the early-morning wake-up which worked much better (the kids actually slept).  However, since Portland isn't quite as mind-numbing as the never-ending drive to California, we figured we would be fine getting an extra hour of sleep.  Loren and I were up at 5am -- already had the car loaded -- just grabbed a few more items, loaded the kids, and shut everything down/up.  I think we were out by 5:30am.  We hit Maverick for some coffee and down the freeway we went.  Until Ten Mile, when I realized we forgot the only thing we HAD to have (and couldn't buy while we were gone) -- the beach house key!  Back to the house we went and finally hit the road again (in the right direction) after 6am.  The early-morning thing didn't work quite as well as the kids were up -- Hayden crashed out pretty quick, but Addie never quite did get comfortable and continued to whine until we stopped for food in Baker City.  Grabbed some grub, stretched our legs a bit, got the kids dressed, and we were off again.  Next stop was Hermiston for some gas, a potty break, and some good ol' gas station snacks.  The kids were getting a bit ancy by then, but we were able to convince them to wait for the playground in The Dalles.  Somewhere after that we had to stop for another potty break (Loren and I have both already forgotten where) and then we all crashed out again for a bit (well, not Loren of course).  The Dalles was very windy (as usual) and raining so we convinced the freshly-napped little ones to hold out for Multnomah.  It took a little "mommy monster" games to get us there, but we made it!  And I think we were all ready for the break.  It was quite busy, but beautiful as always.

I'm practicing with the manual settings on my camera.  :)

Addie of course remembered that the last time we went she found a snail, and that became her sole mission.  Thankfully I spotted one quite early on, so she grabbed it along with 2 slugs we found on our way up to the bridge, and carefully carried them back to show dad (Hayden definitely does not have the patience to wait for Addie's critter-finding adventures so he and dad were up to the bridge, back down, and eating by the time we caught up) who was rightfully disgusted (her hand was covered in slug goo).

We hadn't eaten since Baker City so we grabbed some pizza and enjoyed the falls, the critters, the passing train, and the creek.

After chasing Hayden down (seriously, this almost-3yo is in I-will-NOT-listen mode) we hit the road again.  I always love how close Portland is after Multnomah.  Hit a bit of traffic downtown, but eventually made it to our hotel on Hayden Island.  We love staying downtown, but decided to get a little more for what we're paying (here we have a "suite" complete with fridge and microwave and sofa bed, pool and spa, free wifi, free parking, and free breakfast).  Got checked in to our room and immediately hit the pool (it's all Addie's been talking about).  Took Hayden quite a while to get used to the water, but Addie hopped right in (to the hottub -- we had to heat ourselves up in there before getting in the rather chilly pool).  As I'd only had a half-piece of pizza at Multnomah, I was hungry!  We got dressed and headed out to a local restaurant on the island, Original Joe's.  Odd little place with a video poker room in the back that also sold lottery tickets, but good food.  Hayden was still relentlessly getting into trouble, so we headed to the small park in hopes he'd get some energy out.  It has a little play structure, short walking path, and a slightly steep descent to a small inlet of water.  Both kids dug right in, covering hands and feet with mud, making mud pies, and making their dad cringe as they greeted him with wet muddy pants.  But, of course, as soon as I went to grab my camera they decided they were done (just caught a few shots).

You can see a bit of the mess on Hayden's pants.

Cool houseboats near the park.

My ornery husband.

Played a little longer and then came back to the hotel for a bath and bedtime -- and boy am I ready for it!  Tomorrow is zoo day!

Currere: Final Installment

Well I turned it in, and felt great about it (and did great!).  :)  I dreaded writing it, but I actually really enjoyed it.  It was definitely a new way of "scholarly writing" that I hadn't experienced.  My "theme" ended up being about relationships, which, although I'd never identified it before, makes complete sense.  I am regularly overwhelmed by all the incredible people I have in my life!  So yes, relationships!  This conclusion wasn't nearly as reflective in voice, so pardon the dry scholarly writing.  But I'm happy with the overall message.  :)  I decided to include just a few excerpts.

Sowing the Seeds

     It appears that what has led me to where I am today in my education and ways of teaching were expectations that I would do nothing but succeed in school, experiencing my own humility, being pushed beyond my own aspirations, and realizing the spirit of passion.  Each of these were harvested through meaningful relationships with my family, my children, my teachers, and my mentors... We are all vested in some way [in our education system], so we need to work together to make it a better system.  It can’t be “the other guy’s” job...  Rather than dividing ourselves, often staking claims on opposite sides of the spectrum, we need to work together for the good of our students, of our children, of our society.  As Muhatma Ghandi states, “Be the change you wish to see in the world”. 

     This framework creates a caring classroom of relationships based on respect, trust, competence, personal regard for others, integrity, and high expectations with support (Bryk & Scheider, 2002; Rogers & Renard, 1999). “…community is not just a place to live but an active way to live together… As classroom relationships build community, the community becomes a vital force in learning” (Wolk, 2003, p. 39).
      ...As Grumet (1993) states, “The world we make for children will never be any better than the world we make with each other” (p. 207)...  Our actions are contagious and we can lead by example.  While I can’t force others to change ways, I can push myself to be better.  I need to guide others as I have been guided.  I need to set expectations, encourage compassion, foster potential, and exude passion not only in my own children and in my own students, but in everyone I meet and interact with – and push them to do the same.  Pay it forward. 

 

It's seriously ridiculous how emotional I get about this stuff.  I was relieved to see another student cry as she discussed hers -- I cried everytime I read my draft!  I'm just so passionate about education and my job.  Geek happy!  ;)

 

 “Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot,

Nothing is going to get better. It's not.”

~Dr. Seuss~

The Never Ending Currere...

Almost there!  Added sources in this morning (they're in my formal paper, but I'm not adding them to my blog postings) and now I'm just perusing some additional resources to see if I need any final touches.

Blossoming Passion

     Even after completing my Master’s, which I never dreamed of doing, I was pushed to continue for my doctorate.  But what would I go into?  I wouldn’t say the desire to continue was internal – it was pressure at work and the innate desire to take advantage of the fee waiver benefit (I’m a sucker for a bargain).  These external forces led the drive for the program I chose.  With three degrees from Boise State, it was recommended I look at another institution, but the fee waiver only applied to Idaho public schools, of which there are a limited number that offer graduate programs.  I was also slightly limited in choices based on my previous education in health information (in which no doctoral degree exists in the country) and K-12 education (a program that constantly required me to push the boundaries to apply concepts to post-secondary schooling).  In addition, I was told that a PhD held more value in academia than an EdD.  I settled on a PhD program in adult education.  I rushed to complete the GRE when I was three-months pregnant (rushing because I kept avoiding it, unsure in what to study or how) and started taking classes while I awaited my acceptance (or denial).
     This program a distance education program, a new undertaking for me.  I had taken hybrid courses at the undergraduate level, but didn’t have much experience in entirely online education.  At first I liked the freedom, autonomy, and the fact that I had time to process my thoughts before replying in a discussion.  It was also nice considering the fact that I had a toddler and baby on the way (or a toddler and newborn once accepted).  But I was just missing something.  I had lost my passion for school.  I enrolled in classes and did the minimum work required to get the A that I wanted (but didn’t truly feel I had earned), but I didn’t really engage with the content, the instructor, or other students.  I found the instructors absent and discussions with other students superficial and empty.  According to Wolk (2003), “Classrooms and curriculum must be interesting, intellectual, critical, creative, purposeful, communal, and highly relevant…Getting students genuinely interested in what they are doing in school develops good classroom relationships and learning” (p. 40).  I met with my advisor regularly, typically coming far more prepared than he ever was and leaving with no better sense of direction.  I was thrilled to finally have an in-person seminar class after more than a year in the program, only to find that I still made little to no connection with the faculty (which rotated at each meeting – once a month).  The teacher-student relationship is a key component of the classroom, and can help or hinder learning (Wolk, 2003).  I was simply going through the motions to get the degree to satisfy the expectations of my faculty position. 
     One day, in the middle of a family vacation to California, as we were driving to San Francisco (one of my favorite cities), I received news that changed everything.  Loren showed me an article describing the discontinuation of the fee waiver program for online classes at my university.  Initially, I was devastated.  I sobbed the entire way into the city.  Poor Loren was blindsided by my overreaction.  I was in a program that I didn’t like that I had already invested two years into, and the one thing that kept me going was the fact that it cost me next to nothing.  The thought of paying regular tuition for such a disappointing program turned my stomach.  Upon my return home from vacation I decided to pursue other options – I looked into Boise State’s EdD program.  It is funny now to think of how absolutely devastated I was at the initial news, when it led to one of the best decisions I’ve made in my education.  I started classes at Boise State the following semester and was soon accepted into the program.  I’m over a year in and I have loved every single class I’ve taken.  I am engaged, I am inspired, I am motivated, I am enlightened.  I have made personal connections with every one of my faculty and many fellow students.  Which begs the question, what is so different?  For one, this program is in-person.  There is a big push for online education and I absolutely see the benefits in terms of access, but it is so challenging to make meaningful connections online and far too easy to remain disengaged.  I have also learned since leaving my previous program that it has been (and possibly continues to be) in a bit of turmoil, with negative external reviews and faculty turnover (and perhaps low morale).  When a teacher is discontent in her job, it shows and it reflects in the classroom and on the students.  How can one teach passion without demonstrating it?  How can one expect engagement when she is not herself engaged?  How can one set high expectations when she doesn’t hold the same for herself?  In my faculty now I see a love of teaching, of subject material, of learning.  I see passion and a desire to be better, to do better, to achieve more.  And I see an expectation for the same in students.

 

And yes, I am writing this for class, and yes, I completely comprehend that this sounds like brown-nosing -- but you all know I'm nerd enough to actually love this stuff.  :P

 

“So be sure when you step, Step with care and great tact.
And remember that life's A Great Balancing Act.
And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and ¾ percent guaranteed)
Kid, you'll move mountains.”
~Dr. Seuss~

Tres Currere

Having some serious problems finding good sources, but had fun writing the reflective part.  :)  This one is about a very important person in my life, Patt.  But I also hope it extends a thank you to all of my past and current teachers and mentors.  It's really amazing what you can do when you're surrounded by wonderful people.  :)

Nurturing Potential

When I started in college I really had no idea what I wanted to be.  I hadn’t ever really been overly passionate or good at anything (other than school).  I do like detail and organization, and have always been interested in the sciences.  I decided I might like something in healthcare.  I took basic core classes the first year and then worked on pre-requisites for the radiologic sciences program.  I even set up a shadowing experience right before the program application was due – and it saved me!  I was uncomfortable, disappointed at the idea that I might have to do the same thing all day (I remember the radiological technologist saying that one day you might just do barium enemas all day long), not fond of the potential hours, turned off by the idea that I might have to deal with so many bodily fluids (really, I just wanted to do ultrasounds on pregnant women – I hadn’t considered everything else I’d have to do to get there), and had no clue what to do when the girl that was with me passed out (I completely froze).  I decided a clinical profession might not be for me, but I was still interested in healthcare.  I stumbled across the Health Information Technology program in the BSU catalog (I seriously just went page after page through the entire catalog), which led me to Dr. Patt Elison-Bowers.  Knowing Patt as well as I do now, I can reflect on how excited she was to see me.  As the only non-patient-care clinical program in the college, the program doesn’t usually draw the top students – it tends to get the leftovers.  Patt took one look at my straight-A transcript and immediately saw my potential.  It’s not that I think every single straight-A student is destined for greatness; nor do I think every non-straight-A student is not; but Patt is an incredibly intuitive person who regularly takes on “projects” (as in people).  I hadn’t a clue at the time, but she was already planning my future.  She mentored me through the program and insisted I teach the lab component of a class for another faculty, Linda Osgood.  I was terrified, but as I like to please, I said sure.  I was incredibly shy and hated public speaking.  The thought of being in front of a class, being in charge, was mortifying.  I think I did an ok job, but by no means knocked it out of the park.  But I had apparently done a good enough job in the program that I was on Patt and Linda’s radar.  I obtained a coding job at a local hospital while still completing  my bachelor’s and started full-time upon graduation.  Graduate school was never a consideration.  Nor was teaching.  I had loved the coding job at a part-time status while going to school, but it didn’t take long for me to become bored with it on a full-time basis.  I missed school.  I missed the school schedule.  I felt unchallenged, found little to look forward to, was frustrated by the low response to change (when I suggested more efficient ways of doing things), and just felt like something was missing.  I needed something with more meaning.  I needed a job that meant something to me, that made me feel like I was contributing to something bigger.  The semester before I graduated one (of three) of the health information faculty at BSU retired, the coding instructor.  A friend of mine at the hospital, Carolyn (a fellow coder), applied and got the position.  Upon starting she discovered she was pregnant and decided that she wanted to be home with her baby.  They found a temporary teacher for the following semester, and the positioned opened up again.    Carolyn had encouraged me to apply as soon as she knew she was leaving.  I thought she was nuts.  Although after doing repeated class presentations in my last year of college had eased my public speaking fears slightly, the thought of being in charge of a class was overwhelming.  Then Patt called and also encouraged me to apply.  I wasn’t overly happy where I was, I wanted something more, and apparently others thought it was a good fit.  I decided to go for it.  It is slightly evident to me now that this is actually what Patt had planned all along.  She pushed for me to get that job (pushed both myself and her dean) and look where I am today.  I accepted a half-time “teacher” position (non-tenure track faculty position) and continued to work at the hospital.  The following year I also took a half-time professional staff position as a pre-professional studies advisor and worked on a per diem basis at the hospital.  With the fee waiver benefit I couldn’t pass up going back to school, so I pursued my Master’s in Education.  Again, with no intention of going beyond that.  Patt continued to mentor me and made sure I was offered her tenure-track position when she left our college, again pushing me into new areas (like research) and further pursuing higher education.  After having my daughter I enrolled in a PhD program in Adult Education.  I have since switched degrees, but am still pursuing my doctorate.  Patt has mentored me every step of the way, preparing me for my promotion and tenure application submission this year (I’m only one step away!).  Knowing Patt so well now, I can see that she had big plans for me – far beyond what I had ever dreamed for myself.  I would never be where I am today without her guidance and expectations.  She wouldn’t let me not live up to my potential.  Even today she continues to push me.  This was the meaning I was missing.  If I can inspire/support just one student in doing something they thought they couldn’t, my mission is accomplished.  As I continue to teach, each year I have new students with new problems.  Students that never thought they’d get a college degree.  A student whose dad said she wouldn’t ever amount to anything.  A student who was ostracized from her family and religion because college is not the place for women, but pushed through it anyway.  A single dad with a severely disabled daughter that worked full-time and went to school full-time because he wanted to set a good example and wanted to find that job with the meaning he was looking for (just like me).  A student whose wife passed away suddenly and unexpectedly mid-semester, and he was still able to successfully complete all of his courses.  Several other students who suffered parental and family deaths but endured on.  All of these students with so many odds stacked against them, that push through.  I would never claim to take credit for that, but to be a part of that student’s journey and to see them accomplish something so great, to beat the odds, to finish in the face of doubt, illness, and grief – the honor is beyond words.  I can’t imagine myself in another profession that would feel so rewarding.  Every year I get to be a part of so many journeys and it’s all because one person, a teacher, looked at me, saw my potential, and guided me not only in the right direction, but along the way.  This is what teachers can do for students – see them for far greater than they see themselves.

 “Out there things can happen, and frequently do,
To people as brainy and footsy as you.
And when things start to happen, don't worry, don't stew.
Just go right along, you'll start happening too!” 
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You'll Go!

Currere - Part Deux

A short section, but very important in my reflection... (and a little harder to share)

Cultivating Compassion

As a person who avoids conflict and aims for her comfort zone, I tend to stick to and do the things I’m good at.  I’ve stuck with education because I’m good at school, I went into coding because I picked it up right away in the classroom (that, and it was the job offered!), and I’m still in education because I’m good at it.  All of these things have contributed to my confidence – but that was shattered when I became a mother.  My world turned upside down.  I didn’t change a thing when I was pregnant – I still went 100%, I worked, I exercised, I refused to let it interrupt my semester (I managed to finish my semester with ONE day to spare).  And then I had my daughter.  I had absolutely no idea what to do with this new thing, this person, this tiny helpless being that depended entirely on me.  I was lost.  I wasn’t in school, I wasn’t teaching for the summer.  I was home.  With a baby.  And no clue.  I had read plenty of books prior to delivering and continued to reference them and the internet after her arrival.  But none of it helped.  I would follow everything the books said but it wouldn’t work (some was helpful and I do realize now that I wasn’t necessarily reading the right things, but it was very discouraging at the time).  Don’t let your baby sleep with you.  But she looks so tiny and lonely in that big crib.  Breastfeeding is natural.  Then why am I still struggling after weeks?  You’ll instantly feel the most overwhelming love when you see your baby for the first time.  I don’t.  I resent her.  I’m a horrible mother.  I continuously questioned my decision and my aptitude as a parent.  In fact, I continue to question my ability as a parent every day.  I have never been so self-doubting about anything in my life.  Parenting just brings about so many unknowns and is so contradicted in our society.  What made me think I am capable of being responsible for raising another human?  This self-doubt and discomfort eventually led to acceptance (although I have to remind myself constantly) and has helped me grow immensely.   I am more in touch with myself, with my emotions, and with others.  I feel a deeper bond with my students, connecting with them on a different level than I allowed myself to before.  Understanding how it feels to be so overwhelmed it consumes your very being.  And how it feels to ask for help.  Experiencing the grey area that isn’t addressed in textbooks and rarely discussed in the classroom.  Realizing that sometimes you just have to do what feels right, to you, in that moment, regardless of what society, experts, textbooks, or your parents, family, neighbors, or friends say.

I did get some feedback from my professor.  I just need to add in sources (which I knew, just wasn't sure where to start!) and finish my "future" reflection (which I haven't even started).  Guess I better get on it -- it's due Thursday.  :)

“I know, up on top you are seeing great sights, but down here at the bottom we, too, should have rights.” ― Dr. Seuss, Yertle the Turtle and Gertrude McFuzz

Currere? Nope, Not a French Pastry

So I've been charged in one of my doctoral classes to write a currere.  A cur-what?  Well according to Wikipedia (yes, I know as an educator I always say "Don't use Wikipedia as a source!", but in all reality it is good for quick information and can be a great starting point -- I'm only referencing it here instead of the primary source out of sheer laziness in the fact that this is a blog posting and not a scholarly piece of work):  "Pinar suggests that the term currere, the infinitive form of curriculum, implies the framework for the autobiographical reflection on educational experiences that ultimately shape individual's self-understanding in our democratic society. In relation to curriculum Pinar states, 'The method of currere reconceptualized curriculum from course objectives to complicated conversation with oneself (as a 'private' intellectual), an ongoing project of self-understanding in which one becomes mobilized for engaged pedagogical action—as a private-and-public intellectual – with others in the social reconstruction of the public sphere'."  I decided to start my venture by just picking some key "moments" and free writing about them.  So far it consists of 4 sections (soon to be 5).  Here is the first:

Planting Expectations

Ask someone I went to school with and they’ll probably remember me as being “smart”.  I put “smart” in quotations, because I’m not sure it’s a term used properly sometimes.  I was good at school.  I fit the classroom environment well.  I respond to authority, I focus, I stay on task, I do what is asked of me.  I like to please.  I dislike conflict, shame, punishment, embarrassment, reprimand.  I’m not sure that anyone would admittedly like those things, but I dislike them enough to avoid them if possible.  Particularly as a child.  Even now, when my daughter’s teacher is reprimanding her fellow classmates, I become immediately uncomfortable and just want the situation to remedy itself.  I was a teacher favorite.  I remember watching “School of Rock” and identifying with the “know-it-all” girl in the class who challenges the fact that Jack Black isn’t actually teaching.  I wasn’t that bold, actually the exact opposite (incredibly shy) so I wasn’t the stereotypical obnoxious teacher’s pet who knew every answer and clamored at the chance to say it aloud.  No, I usually knew the answer, but avoided eye contact at all costs in hopes of avoiding being called on.  I wasn’t ashamed of being smart, but I also wasn’t comfortable enough to gloat about it.  I often felt bad that I did better on tasks than other students who I knew were putting in more effort.  At the same time, I helped many classmates – using the term “help” loosely in that I explained things when requested, but also just helped others cheat if indeed the answer was really all they wanted.  I don’t feel like it was a peer pressure situation that enticed me to help others cheat, I think I just like giving people what they want.  It was a regular occurrence in every class that I was the one to go for help.  I enjoyed that role, even as a shy kid.

In addition to being a well-behaved student simply to evade the discomfort of reprimand, doing well in school was a well-known expectation in my family.  Although neither of my parents attended college (well, my mom went for a semester), both were valedictorians and the importance of education was never a question.  I remember other kids getting money or gifts for “A’s” on their report card – we (my brother and I) usually just got a “Good job”.  More than the reward for the A, my incentive was not finding out the disappointment that came with anything less.  The rewards were not nearly as straightforward, and even now, it is rare that I receive direct praise from my father.  I know he gloats about me to everyone he knows, but that same recognition is rarely offered directly to me.  It feels as though I continue to meet his expectations, but I’m not sure I’ve exceeded them.  It wasn’t that my parents beat us or punished us severely in any way, but I just could never handle the disappointment in their faces and voices.  Both of my parents were quite nurturing and I have close relationships with them today.  I honestly can’t even remember how we were disciplined.  I was a rather good kid, so I’m not sure I saw it that much.  When I did rebel a bit in high school, I was usually quite smart about hiding it.  That, or my parents knew and never acknowledged it!  I also think that, being raised on a farm with extended family, my fear of disappointment extended well beyond my parents.  We lived (in close proximity) with three uncles/aunts, my grandparents, and eight cousins.  If we acted out, it wasn’t simply an individual punishment.  We were representing our family and family name, and any indiscretions were well known by the entire family.  Even when it came time for college (or even years earlier), there wasn’t any doubt in what I would be doing upon graduating high school.  I knew that I was attending Boise State (my family has always actually been Boise State fans, but that was not my primary reason in choosing it – it was location).  There wasn’t a thought in my mind that I would do anything else.  Again, I can’t remember it being told to me that I HAD to go to college, it was just the only choice presented.  I’m sure there are a number of other influences.  My brother went to college, and I think with any siblings there is at least a bit of competition.  He was also an excellent student and very well-liked by his teachers.  Not only did this encourage me to live up to his standards, but in a way I think it paved an easier path for me as I was his sister, coming into classrooms he had just left two years previously leaving a remnant of positive association with the “Gatfield” name.  I also grew up on a farm, watched and listened to my dad unhappy in his job, watched my mom work so we had a bit more money to live a bit more comfortably, and I didn’t want the same for myself.  I knew I didn’t want to live on the farm, and I didn’t want to be limited in my opportunities because I didn’t have a college education.  I also enjoyed school and was good at it, more successful in academics than anything else I tried in life.  College would be a way to get away from the farm and gain some independence while still being in a setting that was comfortable.  I adapted to college education quickly, finding the rigor enough to “keep me on my toes”, but not enough to destruct my educational confidence.

Of course I didn’t love every aspect of school.  I was incredibly shy and had a hard time making friends.  I always felt the pressures of social integration and had rather low self-esteem in that setting.  I was terrible at sports, a common form of embracing a higher social status particularly in junior high and high school.  It was easier for me to escape that by indulging myself into the academics I did excel at.  I also didn’t love every subject – I found social studies boring and completely dreaded speech as public speaking was about the most terrifying task to be imposed on me.  I still, however, managed to be successful in these courses because the desire to achieve always exceeded my distaste for the subject or assignment.

Now, mind you, it remains to be seen (or heard) if I'm actually doing any of this correctly (I sent my draft to my teacher for feedback just tonight).  But it's actually kind of a fun process nonetheless, just to spend some time reflecting.  More to come...