The Sands of Time are Sinking

I was sitting at my desk the other afternoon chatting with another teacher when a little boy suddenly appeared at my side. He was holding a steaming hot pizza bar which he shoved into my face.

"It's too hot. I can't get it out," he says, pushing the pizza bar dangerously close to my nose.

"Uh.. well, if it's too hot, you probably shouldn't eat it right now or it will burn you," I say touching it and realizing that it is quite hot.

"Are you a science teacher??????" he asks, with a very suspicious look on his face.

"No..." I say, and he leaves, probably disgusted with me for daring to give him advice about heat, which is obviously only believable if a science teacher says it.

I went back to working at my desk. Five minutes later, he appeared at my other elbow.

"You know what???" he says, in a hoarse whisper as he reaches his arm up around my neck and yanks me down to his pizza-bar-filled-mouth, "my mom teaches Grade 7!"

"Uh... that's nice," I say, trying to pull away from the loudly masticating mouth.

"And you know what else???" he whispers, probably spitting particles of pizza bar mixed with saliva into my ear and hair, "She's going to teach Grade 11!"

"Oh wow..." I say, trying to be enthusiastic despite the loud munching and hot breath.

"Why do you teach Grade 10?"

"Um..."

===

Good question, little one. Why do I teach high school? Never in my wildest imagination did I think I'd be teaching any grade higher than 3rd. I am not trained for high school, and it's a wild ride of catching up on all the reading I should have paid attention to in high school and learning how to teach  apathetic teenagers who grew up on gadgets and not books. I think this is why I teach high school: I enjoy the challenge and the constant learning that inevitably occurs. In the end, I love that day in and day out, I am being humbled by the challenges thrown my way, challenges that sometimes give me indigestion, bad dreams, and panic-attacks. To teach is to be a forever student.

Last night, my mom and I watched Inside Out. I didn't cry. I almost did. But I didn't. Maybe I should have. I don't like dealing with emotions, especially when it comes to big things in life. I tend to worry and over-think two of my emotions: joy and sadness. I worry about appearing too excited or too happy. I worry about showing how sad I am. What I appreciated about the movie is the balance of joy and sadness and that the two often go hand-in-hand. I was reminded of the old hymn The Sands of Time are Sinking, a hymn I've heard sung at a funeral and at a wedding. I haven't moved around as much as some MKs, but I have been uprooted multiple times. I've gradually let go of different childhood hopes and dreams, and it does hurt. I have beautiful memories from all over the world, but some of these memories are tempered with sadness as those people have either grown distant or gone on. And yet, through all these things, I am also reminded of Psalm 23, a Psalm that speaks of both the valleys and green pastures in life and through it all, the Shepherd in whom we lack no thing.

Why do I teach high school? I teach high school because God has placed me there, and I have come to really love it. I am so glad that we serve a God who breaks us of our self-dependence, our pride, and sometimes our long-held dreams to give us the joy that comes in the morning, that joy found only in Him.

With mercy and with judgment my web of time He wove

And aye, the dews of sorrow were lustered by His love; 

I'll bless the hand that guided, I'll bless the heart that planned

When throned where glory dwelleth in Emmanuel's land.

Summer 2015

Today was the first day of the new school year. How that came upon us so fast, I don't even know. It seems like we were just trying to survive the end of the year activities, and now we're back to new beginnings all over again. This summer was a back-to-back busy one! The month of March was one thing after another as we tried to wrap up. I went to the Grade 10 and Grade 6 retreats (two separate weekends). I also survived prom for the first time. I attended 3 graduations and therefore spent ten and a half hours sitting in the AVR. :)

Rebap Camp was at the beginning of April (Thurs-Sat) and then we had a Faculty/Staff retreat the following Monday-Tuesday. I left on Wednesday for Davao where I got to share with some kids there who were struggling with being adopted. That was an interesting opportunity. I also got to spend some time with Jenn and rest and relax a bit. I got home Saturday, and then Sunday night I left for CRBC because I went to spend the majority of my summer living at the CCM Girls' Home. That whole next week was crazy because it was also their DVBS at church. I spent the week there and then left because the following week I had to fly to Bacolod for the ACSI leadership conference. Once I got back, I spent the remaining 3 weeks of my break at CCM, tutoring the girls with reading difficulties. It was nice timing because my last day there was April 16 which was also the 20th Anniversary celebration of CCM. I got to go to that and then had one Sunday before heading back to school! What a whirlwind! :) That's my summer in a nutshell.

Once I got back to school, we were immediately swamped with meetings, seminars, and more meetings! It's a challenging year for us since we are working on getting re-accredited with ACSI. I also have a bigger role this year as I am the subject coordinator for English. That means I have to check lesson plans and make observations for Grades 1-9, as well as teach Gr. 10. I am also apparently on the "steering team" for the ACSI accreditation. I don't even know what that means other than sleepless nights. :) Thankfully I am only teaching one grade level, and since they're 2 sections, I really only teach one and a half hours a day. It's also good because I'm spending my Saturdays doing follow-up tutoring at CCM.

Another new thing this year is that I've been joined by my dad! Since the Department of Education opened up "senior high" (which is not even close to what it is in the States), the school brought in outside "professors" to teach certain subjects. My dad was assigned to Intro to the Philosophy of the Human Person. In other words, anthropology, or "The Doctrine of Man." DepEd increased the number of class hours per semester from 40 to 80, so now he teaches 4 hours on a Monday afternoon. Whew! At least they survived their first day today. I'm glad that the batch he has was the one I had last year. They are full of spiritual questions and I hope this profits them beyond merely fulfilling DepEd's course requirements.

In church news, we celebrated our 28th Anniversary yesterday. It was also a building thanksgiving because we just finished the 4th extension. If you look at the building, you can count God's faithfulness in the number of beams marking each extension. I turn 28 this year, and it's an encouragement to see how God has grown the church within the same years of my life. When I came back from the States, I became a member (again) of MCBC simply because it was the most obvious thing to do. There was a time when I really wondered why I hadn't even thought of going to a different church, even if it's still Rebap. Was I a part of the church because I really believed that it is Biblically sound? Was I committed out of habit or from my heart? As I've grown, I've realized how blessed I have been to stay in this church because, by God's grace, the elders remain faithful to God's word and have not given into the "worship trends." We are not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but we are seeking to be more like Christ. Even the fact that we still practice a whole day Sabbath is something to thank God for, as many churches have eliminated their evening service and spend the rest of the day as a family day.

Our school theme this year is "Commit to CEO." That stands for take Courage, give Excellence, and grab Opportunities. This year is challenging for students as well as for me, and it's a good reminder of my dependence upon the Lord of the universe. Soli Deo Gloria.

With co-teachers in Bacolod

Bacolod scenery :)

I did a seminar on Biblical Integration for a school in Tarlac.

Church extension -- see the beams?

Calvin is here for a year for his internship! The boy is almost a doctor!

High School Faculty 

Classroom birthday board

New desks for Grade 10!

Eleven out of twenty-two founding members

Dad survived his first day of teaching high schoolers!

Here I Raise My Ebenezer

Then Samuel took a stone and set it between Mizpah and Shen, and named it Ebenezer, saying, "Thus far the LORD has helped us." 1 Samuel 7:12

I feel like 2014 is just beginning, but when I check the calendar, I realize that it’s 2015. Ten years ago, I was a college freshman. Where did the time go! I have often been the kind of person who lives in the past – too much so, I’m afraid. I wonder at the would-have-beens like Lucy in the Chronicles of Narnia. I try to relive decisions and experiences in an attempt to hold on to something or to attempt, in vain, to change the present. In the past few years, though, by God’s grace, I’ve started to learn to live more in the present and especially to look forward to future Glory.  I look back on this year, and honestly, it’s one big blur. God’s faithfulness, however, is evident in all the events of this year.  Here at the end of 2014, I raise my Ebenezer and recall ways in which God has helped me thus far.

• March - He helped me in the crazy wrap-up that was the Bridging Program at school.  It was exhausting; He supplied unusual strength.
• April - He provided a way for me to go back to the States to visit family and friends after 3 years.
• He helped me conquer my fear and insecurities about going back to America knowing that people and places had changed, and that life had moved on.
• July - He amazingly and completely out-of-the-blue provided better (in other words, mold-free) housing walking distance from school, and I haven’t enjoyed such good health (and breathing ability) in the past 2 years!
• He carried and is carrying me through teaching two different levels – 6th grade and 10th grade – especially when 10th grade is not what I’m trained to teach.
• He has given me incredible gospel opportunities with my 10th graders!
• October /December - He gave our family a sweet time of fellowship in Hong Kong over my sembreak, and then gave me another opportunity to travel to Indonesia to celebrate the Indonesian wedding reception of a college friend! Nine and a half years ago, who would have ever dreamed this story!
• He also taught me many spiritual lessons, and He is continuing to faithfully teach me, to break me, and to show me more of my need for Him.

I don’t know what 2015 will hold. I pray that I don’t lose my drive and desire to serve Him in the same place. As someone who spent six years of the last decade moving around, changing jobs, and exploring possibilities, it’s hard for me to be rooted, but I’m learning. I have weird fears – like the fear of being “stuck” teaching at the same school for the rest of my life. It’s weird to live with the long-term in mind, though I’m seeing that sometimes staying is the best thing – and it can be just as exciting and adventurous as “leaping”!   I love teaching, but maybe not forever in the way that I do now. Being a teacher can be so all-consuming. It’s a challenge for me to develop friendships outside of school or get involved in anything else. I’ve really been hit this year with the loneliness that can come with the kind of job I hold.*  And yet there is so much good to do at school. There are so many opportunities to serve. I greatly love my students and the interaction we have every single day. I’m thankful to be used of God in this way, but it does come with sacrifice.

Staying. Being still. Knowing that HE is God. These are lessons that He is teaching me as I am surrendering (continuous tense) my will, hopes, and dreams for the future to His sovereign plan. This sounds like a depressing way to welcome in the New Year, but I amsomewhat excited for what He will bring in 2015. I do know one thing – thus far He has helped me, and He will continue to help me. Whatever he ordains is right, and that doesn’t mean it will be easy. That does not mean there won’t be times of intense sorrow. It does mean that there will many times of overwhelming grace and continuous, continuous outpourings of lovingkindness from the Father for His undeserving children. No matter what happens next year, my prayer is that I will be more drowned in Him, more totally in awe of Him, and more delighted to serve Him wherever He places me.

Look back to the Cross. Look continually upward to Christ. Look forward to Glory! Maranatha.

*Loneliness can be a result of choices. Balance is not always something I'm good at. It is easy to put blinders on and become too focused. (Ask my roommate who knows better than to talk to me when I'm in 'the zone.' Haha) I hope this year I'm better able to balance other people and still strive for excellence in my field. :) 

Living Like Reepicheep

*I forgot to paste this into blogger on December 23rd.*

 I have always loved Narnia. I liked The Chronicles of Narniaas a child, but I fell in love with them as an adult. For the Christian, these are more than stories. They draw our minds to greater spiritual realities and cause us to long to know the true God and to look forward to Heaven. Four years ago, I read through The Voyage of the Dawn Treader again because the movie came out that year. This year, I’m reading it again because it happens to be the book we are doing for the high school book club at school. Each time I read any of the Narnia books, I come away with something different and something so precious. On the anniversary of the passing of my grandfather, I want to talk about one of my favorite Narnians.

If you know the literary side of me, you are most likely quite aware of my bordering-on-obsessive-admiration of the mouse in the book: Reepicheep. Reepicheep was a mighty mouse who feared nothing and loved to do daring feats. He wasn’t just living for the high of adventure, though. He lived the way he did because he had a singular purpose: to find Aslan’s country. He lived life to the fullest, but he looked beyond it as well. In The Voyage,the characters needed to break a spell by sailing to the World’s End and leaving one of their company. Reepicheep believed that the utter East would lead him to his beloved Aslan, so he made up his mind to be the one left behind and go find Aslan’s country.  Caspian, however, also wanted to go and leave his role as King of Narnia and follow Reepicheep to see the World’s End. Much as Caspian desired to go, Aslan spoke to him and told him the difficult truth that he would have to remain where he was and the others were to go ahead – Reepicheep to find the Aslan’s country and the children to their own country.

At the very end of the book, the children meet Aslan again and Lucy asks him, “Will you tell us how to get into your country from our world?” Aslan answers, “I shall be telling you all the time. But I will not tell you how long or short the way will be; only that it lies across a river.But do not fear that, for I am the great Bridge Builder.”

Four years ago, when my grandfather passed away, Heaven became more real to me. I lost several things that year besides my grandfather, and I, like Caspian, wanted to just go to “Aslan’s country.” I wanted to shirk all my roles, whatever they were at the time, because after all, being with Christ is far better. And yet I am reminded that God doesn’t tell us how long or short the way is to Heaven. He will build that bridge for us, but while waiting, we ought to live like Reepicheep – investing wholeheartedly in obeying our Master in this life, but with the singular purpose of being with God for all eternity. Caspian’s desire was not wrong in itself, but he missed out on the fact that Aslan had given him a purpose that he still needed to fulfill before the time was right for him to go to Aslan’s country.

My grandfather was a quiet man, but he was steadfast in his hope. He loved Jesus until his last breath. Even when he had already lost much of his communicating abilities, he wrote on the chalkboard in the kitchen, “I love Jesus.” He was hard worker, but he didn’t let it take precedence over his devotional life and worship of his God. He spoke to his grandchildren of Jesus and Heaven and making sure we were right with God. When we were in college, he took on the task of leading us in family devotions in the absence of our dad. His prayers were Gospel-saturated and filled with that unshakable trust in the Lord and desire for His coming. He also enjoyed life. He showed us the hidden wonders of rocks when looked at under a black light. He tended a flourishing garden. He loved photographing people and nature. His delight in his Savior was seen in his delight in life. In many ways, my grandfather was a Reepicheep.

So here I am – his fourth grandchild, and second granddaughter. He has left behind a godly legacy. How will I honor that? Living like a Reepicheep looks like a good start. In many ways, I can be more like Caspian than Reepicheep. When I get lost in the sadness of this world, loneliness, and even uncertainty of the future, I want to pass on everything and go join Reepicheep to find the utter East. I forget that this life will be filled with pain and sadness. I can’t look for or even expect Aslan’s country in this life because I won’t find it. It’s not here. But I still have a life to live here for God’s glory until He, the great Bridge Builder, brings me across that River. I don’t know how long it will be. I don’t know how many loved ones will cross before me. That thought is often scary to me. But, as Aslan says, I have no need to fear that. The God who has been God since before time even began will continue to carry me through. May I – may you – be more of a Reepicheep, so that, as the hymn writer says, “having proved it Christ to live, may I know it Christ to die.”

Dwelling on Truth

The Bible says to think about things that are true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praise-worthy. This becomes especially important in the face of lies hurled at us by the world and even our friends.

I read a friend's blogpost about being an MK, but within it, he included 5 questions that were posted in his high school English teacher's class. I decided to jump-start the 3rd quarter with those questions.

1. Who am I?

2. Who is my neighbor?

3. What is wrong with the world?

4. What is the significance of words?

5. How then shall I live?

I began the third quarter with poetry. I'm not a poetry expert. I am not good at interpreting poetry. I don't really even like poetry, but I do like spoken word poetry. I wanted to give them an example of spoken word poetry, so I played the video "To This Day." Right before class, I threw in some reflection questions just for the fun of it. I also wanted to see how discerning they could be about the world's messages of positivity and belief in self. Again, I am thankful that I teach in a Christian school where we can talk about these issues and offer truth rather than empty lies or unfounded assurances.

Most of the kids didn't notice what was missing in the poem. I expected that. I also expected at least one person to "get it" and she did. She also happens to write well. Here is her response:

      “I learned that anti-depressants are not going to work and that there are many broken people in the world today facing their own struggles. I disagree that the cure is merely believing in oneself. It’s much more than that. Man will always be broken and empty without God. Anti-depressants will not do the job. No matter how hard anyone tries, they will never find true contentment and joy without Jesus… In truth, without God, we are all broken people with no remedy and nothing to make us whole. There is only one answer and only one solution: God.”

What I didn't expect to happen was that a nearly six-foot-tall boy in the back would be sobbing at the end of class. What I didn't expect was that he would be surrounded by 3 other friends and when I watched to see what they would do, I saw them not trying to cheer him up by making him laugh, but instead, they were taking turns praying with him and for him. I got his reflection afterwards and saw that he said he is going through depression and has contemplated suicide before. He barely gives a hint of that at school. He distracts himself and just plays the class clown. I read another reflection by a girl who managed to hold in her tears and she said that she felt that the poem had exposed her own heart, but she didn't mention depression. She was one that had talked to me after the Puritan sermon assignment, and I think she may be a Christian or at least around the Wicket Gate. 

I realized again how I don't really know what God is doing in this batch of kids, but somehow He seems to be working. He's at least giving opportunities that I had not planned for at the beginning of the year. Being a Christian teacher is so, so much more than being a  dispenser of information. It's about getting to the hearts of the children and pointing them to things of eternal value. 

The beginning of my lesson for tomorrow has significantly changed. Now we're going to go through some of the lines of the poem and discuss who we are, the power of words, and the true hope that is so obviously missing in the poem. I hope my students begin to dwell on truth, think about truth, and not get sucked into the lies of the world. 

AND a big thank you to Catherine for the 3 Scripture Reference Counseling books that arrived right before this incident. :) 

Here's the video:

I accidentally fell in love.

This is a love story. It's not your typical love story. I call it...

Love Accidentally.

I was one of those homeschoolers who was raised on classic books and firmly believed that she would follow in the steps of Laura Ingalls Wilder or any of those girls who got married before they turned 20. I didn't really like school and I figured that I probably wouldn't really need college because I'd be married by 18. When I turned 17, I started to realize that it was 2004, not 1904, and most likely I would have to go to college. If you go to college, you'd better have a plan in mind! I wasn't good at math, unlike my brother. Engineering was definitely not in my future. I couldn't draw, so art was out of the question. I knew I would not make a good nurse, so following my mom was not an option. What was left? Teaching! Perfect! After all, it is the 21st Century, so I could afford to bide my time and get some more education before leaving it all to be the only thing I ever wanted to be: a wife and mother of 9 children, 8 boys and 1 girl to be be exact. And anyway, whatever I learned in college would be applicable to homeschooling a whole bunch of kids, so that's why I decided to become a teacher.

Most people talk about their "calling" to be a teacher and how they knew that that's all they wanted to be. During seminars and teacher talks, teachers will talk about that moment when they knew they were called to become a teacher. Teachers love to ask each other what made them want to be a teacher. And then there's me. Why did I want to become a teacher? Uh. I didn't? or Uh...because I figured it would be a good way to bide my time before I left it all to be a stay-at-home mommy? I honestly never had that "moment" when I just knew that "touching lives for eternity" was something I wanted to invest in. Sure, I liked kids (probably liked their books more), and it would be fun to play with kids all day. That was as "confirming" as it got. I had no epiphanies or an insatiable love for children.

Fast forward to my fifth-ish year teaching. My "moment" did eventually come. It came while I was already teaching. I don't have an exact instance, but I know that I learned I wanted to teach for the sake of teaching after I was already a teacher. Better late than...later, huh?

I fell in love with teaching, but I hadn't meant to.

I moved up to high school this year. When I was in college, I thought 3rd grade would be my max. The next year I was moved to 6th grade. Two years after that, I found myself teaching 10th. It's so different teaching high school after having taught grade school! Teaching is so much more than all those papers I check. It's so much more than all the texts I send to parents. Teaching is more than the hours I pour into reading up on literature I've never heard of, literary terms I vaguely remember not paying attention to, researching skills I had no idea were essential for every high school graduate. It's also not just the 45 minutes standing in front of 20-some lanky teenagers, dispensing information that is supposed to help prepare them for the future. That only represents a small piece of what it means to teach. If that was all that comprised teaching, I would never have fallen in love with it.

Teaching is also the hours spent after class with brokenhearted teenagers crying over a reading assignment you assigned because you hoped and prayed that it would go deeper than academics, yet you never really believed a teenager would really take it seriously. Teaching is also the times you spend during lunch break just chatting with the kids, getting to know their other interests. It's the moments that you push away the stack of papers that is obviously filling up your desk and must be returned the very next day as you say, "Of course I'm not too busy. What's up?" when a girl with red eyes comes to ask you about how to do what she knows is right, yet she knows it will hurt her very much. Teaching is about sacrifice--when you have so much to do and yet you go to the boys' basketball team because you know that boys will work harder for you when they know you also care about what interests them. Teaching is about modeling love--unconditional love--grace, sacrifice, humility, and kindness. You can't talk about those things if you don't show them that you abide by those things too.

Teaching is scary. Teaching is tough. I've seen more of the ugliness of myself as I've taught these kids. If I want to win students to Christ, I have to live Christ-like before them. I have to try to point them toward a glorious and beautiful Savior. I ask them questions to try to stir them up to think about things that really matter. How do you manage your time? How much do you pray? How far are you willing to go in obedience to Him? How much do you love Him? These are all questions that I throw at my students, and then, like a curve-ball, the same questions hit me in the face and I'm forced to ask myself the same questions. Do I love Him supremely above all else? Do I hunger and thirst after righteousness? I see how feeble I am and how far I fall short of His standard. How little I love Him. It's so humbling to be a teacher, and I see how much more I need to be like Mary and spend time at the feet of the master Teacher.

A decade ago, my life was all planned out. I smile at how God takes those "silly" plans and changes them, sometimes breaking me and molding me painfully in the process, to give me what I really need. I don't know how He's going to use me in the lives of these children, but I'm so excited. I love being a teacher. I love that part of teaching is being taught every single day. Though I'm scared as I feel the weight of this trust and stewardship, I'm grateful for how God has orchestrated the events in my life to give me this opportunity to serve in this capacity. Maybe one day I will get my childhood "dream job," (minus the 9 kids part!) but I'm thankful that God has allowed me to be part of of helping raise 235 (and counting) children, even though my initial reason for becoming a teacher was a little off.

I accidentally fell in love with teaching.

Le Birthday

Just some #pics. :)

Flowers, cake, and COFFEE from my homeroom class

Some people got cut out. Fail selfie-pod.

Birthday Celebrants: Aug 1, Aug 5, and Aug 3

D-O-N-E!

Today was our last set of closing ceremonies (grades 5, 7, 8, and 9) for the Bridging Program. The principal asked the kids to give a great “YEHEY!” cheer because we’re finally done. Grade 5 was very enthusiastic. Grade 7, I guess, thought it was beneath their dignity. J Anyway, the two years of intense cramming 3 academic years within the smaller time frame is D-O-N-E. Not only is the Bridging Program over, but my first 3 years of probationary period are over! I can’t believe it has been a little over three years since I came back home and started teaching. It has been overwhelming, fun, exhausting, and a delight all rolled into one. God often does the unexpected and His ways are definitely best and beyond what we can fathom. In three years (well, technically including the beginning of next school year beginning in July), have moved up three departments. I started teaching 3^rd grade. After an insane year, I wanted to quit, convinced this wasn’t the school for me, but the HRD convinced me to stay by offering me 6^th grade. For the past 2 years, I’ve taught three different batches of 6^th grade, including my very first batch all over again. Next year, I’m teaching 10^th grade AND one section of 6^th. I guess I’ve never really been good at sticking with one job. I worked in almost all the departments in college just because I thought it would be fun (and it was). As long as I don’t end up teaching preschool, I’m ok with moving around grade levels. J

That was a lengthy introduction for the point of this entry. Yesterday, Pastor Hoffman, from Florida, preached in the morning. He gave his testimony in the Sunday School and preached on the lame beggar from Acts 3. He talked about the expectations that various people in the story had. The beggar expected alms from Peter and John, but they told him they had no money. His expectations were shattered. Then, Peter and John offered him real, lasting help, not just some money to get through that day. He had such a lowly expectation, but God gave him something so much greater. It was a very timely message at the end of these three years. God has time and time again shattered my lowly expectations only to offer me something so much greater and beyond what I ever expected. I want to share some of my shattered expectations from the past 3 years and how God has replaced them with goodness beyond belief.

Expectation #1 (which technically goes back many more years): I will grow up and teach in a public school in the Philippines and teach needy children and give back to my country (cue dramatic patriotic music).

Grade 6 Retreat

Team building games

Shattering: I teach in a school for the privileged Chinese-Filipinos, mostly business kids, and I understand more Filipino than the majority of the kids. During the first year, I struggled with the idea that I wasn’t really fulfilling my calling to serve God. In my little brain, I somehow got the idea that if I’m not serving in the place where I think or had planned to serve, then I’m not really serving God. I think it made the year even harder because I was discontented with serving rich kids. Slowly, God worked in my heart and brought me kids with deep, heart need and I realized that serving God is not about me and where I want to serve. Upon reflection, I don’t think I’d do well in a public school – at least not yet. My language skills leave much to be desired. I have travelled around a lot and so have the kids, so that gives us some common ground, even though our worlds are entirely different. I can relate to them in ways that some teachers at the school cannot, simply because my upbringing was very Western, though with enough exposure to this culture that I can blend well. Plus, the hearts of sinners are the same, whether they are rich or poor. I have fallen in love with this school and it only reminds me that God knows what is best for me.

Sports fest

Steal the Bacon

Expectation #2: English teachers aren’t typically given a homeroom class, so I will not be given a homeroom class, because I know myself and I would not be able to handle the stress.

Mind games

Shattering: After traumatic year number one, I came back to school only to find out that not only did I have 6^th grade, but I also had a homeroom class. I panicked inside. I thought, “There’s no way I can handle this!” Now my first set of homeroom kids are planning a reunion in August to commemorate the day that they went on an outing to the same mall that I went to that day and they chased us (my parents and me) down the corridor yelling, “Miss Hofmaier!!!” Having a homeroom is extra time, but it’s fun! I learned more about management – both of papers and of kids. I got to pray for the kids at their baccalaureate service. I got to write their character awards. The next year, I got to write special letters for each child in my homeroom class. My first homeroom was far from perfect, but looking back, it was a fun experience and I would have missed out if I had stubbornly refused to take homeroom (but technically, we don’t have a say in the matter anyway).

Testimony time by cell group

Expectation #3: I will not be level coordinator because I told them I didn’t want it and I’m not ready for it.

Opening letters from their homeroom teachers

Shattering: I’m pretty sure I should stop saying I’m not ready for something, because God often proves that He has already prepared me for whatever I am given. I was made level coordinator this past year and had to handle graduation. All year long I dreaded it because it involves so much organization and I’m not good at organizing a bunch of kids and thinking of every detail of a program. I’m scatterbrained. Well guess what? Halfway through the practices, I was shocked because I wasn’t confused and frustrated and worried like I had been last year when I wasn’t even the level coordinator! God gives what is needed when the time is right.

Those are only a few of the big things that happened. Maybe they seem small and insignificant, but every person has different fears and anxieties. Each time, though, God proves His faithfulness and goodness in spite of my feeble efforts.

My cell group

I am so thankful for this school. It is far from perfect, but is definitely a great blessing. When I first entered, everyone talked about the school being a “family” which I thought was so cliché because seriously, you only spend a few hours a day with these people and they mostly only know you within school. After spending hours and hours together these past 2 years because we didn’t actually get a real summer break, I have to say – it has become family. It’s not cliché. From the teachers to the students – there is genuine care for one another, moments of conflict of course, but definitely love. I have to say that many teachers put me to shame with their prayer life. They really and truly pray for each other and for the kids. I’ve mentioned my middle school supervisor before, but I’ll mention her again. She’s definitely a woman of prayer, grounded in the Word of God, and lives out the commands of God. She held our department together – playing a peacemaker, showing genuine concern for those under her, humbly assisting her teachers even if it meant going out of her way to stay late to help do something as tedious as covering 80 books in plastic. The law of kindness is definitely on her tongue, even when she is most stressed. I look up to her a lot and she has taught me so much by giving me freedom to experiment, but offering advice and guidance so I don’t just stumble around blindly.

Baccalaureate

Next year, this is what’s on my plate:

Grade 10 – new curriculum for me!
Grade 6 – planning the lessons but only teaching 1 out of 3 sections – and it’s also a new curriculum
Helping implement a new curriculum for grades 2-6
Editing and helping in the write-ups for ACSI accreditation
MAYBE homeroom

2 retreats, 2 graduations, 2 baccalaureate services, immersion program... and prom. I'm more worried about prom than anything else. Hahaha

So here’s to another… three years? Who knows where God will take me, but I am excited. I’m apprehensive about teaching 10^th grade, especially when I saw a sample syllabus of the reading selection! I am excited to learn with them, though, and I know that whatever He gives me, He will prepare me to handle it. It will be busy – ridiculously busy – especially with the word “accreditation” looming over us. I’m looking forward to some more shattering, because He is infinitely wise and good and He is faithful, even through the dark providences of life.

Successfully did not burn down the school

You fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds you so much dread
Are big with mercy and will break
In blessing on your head.

My class president from my first homeroom class. He's leaving and transferring to an international school. And yes, he's 13 and that tall!

Farewell (almost) to the First Three Years

In a couple of weeks, the two-year Bridging Program will be over. It feels like yesterday that the principal announced that we would be cramming 3 academic years into two calendar years. At that time, it felt like the two years would be an eternity... and now it's almost over. Sometimes I wonder if two years really happened...and then I look at my hair. (I cut my hair every two years and it's back to my waist which means that two years did indeed pass.)

So anyway, the 6th grade graduating batch happens to be my very first batch of kids 3 years ago. I think it's almost appropriate to end this school year with these kids. These kids bore the experiments of a brand new teacher fresh from the United States with teaching experience limited to 3 months of three students in the African bush with no electricity half the time. They put up with my endless "Grammar Pet Peeves", crazy writing projects and obsessive editing marks all for the sake of class rewards such as cookies and brownies. Three years later, they are still putting up with a slightly more experienced, definitely more insane, even crazier when it comes to marking comma splices and still constantly experimenting English teacher.

What did I learn in my first 3 years (four, if you count academic years) of teaching? To be totally profound, stuff. Or, to say it the way my students would, I learned so many stuffs. (Old habits die hard.)

1) I still have no idea what I'm doing. Each batch is different and each batch will just show you how much you don't know. The teacher is constantly learning with the students. 

2) Teaching without compassion for the individual student is not teaching. They might learn a lot of head knowledge, but if you don't see them as individuals, they will notice. Children notice everything. (Get them to write a journal -- they often contain shocking revelations about a child's observations and consequent conclusions.)

3) Get to know students outside of class. I spent many lunch breaks with a certain batch of 6th graders. I still spend lunch breaks with them even though they're in 8th grade now.

4) Go to the basketball games. Boys don't really care about reading and grammar, but they tend to do better when you show them that you care about their sports. Plus, getting the coaches on your side goes a long way in motivating tough boys.

5) Listen to kids. They sometimes have really pointless stories or even petty drama, but sometimes, they just need someone to listen.

6) Let kids be silly around you. I have kids who come up to me and tell me really dumb jokes or just start dancing and singing in front of me for no reason. If you don't put your papers aside to watch them, you'll miss some of the funniest moments in your life. Guaranteed.

7) Write them. Even if writing is not your skill or your love language, it is often the universal love language of a student, boy and girl alike. I've had boys in high school tell me they still have my notes from when they were in 6th grade. Never underestimate the power of a written note.

8) Communicate everything clearly with parents. Stand your ground. I have the advantage of being a native English speaker, so parents rarely try to fight me over a grammar point. I learned, however, to be very clear with instructions and policies so there are no holes though.

9) Prove to the parents that you love their kids. Many parents complain that English is really difficult, but they usually end by saying something along the lines of, "Well, my son/daughter says you're nice, so at least..." ;)

10) Have a back up an for everything and be prepared to make something up on the spot. Never waste time in class. Keep them moving! Always be flexible.

11) Most importantly, pray. Pray for wisdom to handle the drama of 11 year olds, the wrath of parents, the irresponsibility of hyper boys. Pray for the children who don't seem to be capable of ever acting mature - often there's something going on at home that we don't know about. Pray for strength to press on even when the kids push all your buttons. Pray for health - I've never been so sick so many times in my life.

12) Food. Kids will do anything for food. 

Want a job that you have to bring home with you, even on weekends?
 Be a teacher. 
Want a job where you have to do conflict resolution time and time again? 
Be a teacher. 
Want a job where you often eat your lunch a few bites at a time over a period of three hours? 
Be a teacher.

Want a job where you are guaranteed to laugh every single day?
 Be a teacher. 
Want a job where you can watch your efforts bear fruit through the accomplishments of your students? 
Be a teacher. 
Want a job where you can make a difference in someone's life? 
Be a teacher. 
Want a job where you get to roll down a hill, play tag, go on crazy bus rides and still be "working"?
 Definitely be a teacher.

Here we go. Last 2 weeks of grade 6, here we come! Soli Deo Gloria.

My Journey into the World of Sports...ish

I've never been a sports fan. Anyone who knows me knows that sports and Becky don't go together. I attended many soccer games during furloughs thanks to my American cousins who had back to back games on most Saturdays and our ever supportive grandparents would make the 1 hour trip just to watch some little kids tear around a field chasing a black and white ball. I went along for the ride but had no clue how the game even worked.

Fast forward to college. By the time my first semester was up, I knew that soccer and basketball were pretty important to the students and BBC was our biggest rival. I laughed at our promotional videos with BBC jokes and pretended I knew all about it when I really didn't have a clue. So what? They were our rivals. What more did I need to really know?



(Fun fact -- those two in the video are now married and have a really cute baby.)

The only basketball game I enjoyed was the traditional donkey ball during Homecoming.  I mean who doesn't enjoy watching students vs your Four Gospels professor and your Pauline Epistles professor and other Resident Life staff trying to dribble a basketball astride a donkey? Seriously. Best game ever. Too bad PETA people spoiled it.

IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT DONKEY BASKETBALL IS, CLICK HERE!

After I dropped out of orchestra due to time constraints, I missed playing my flute. Finally somebody came up with the idea that we needed a pep band. The pep band was made up of super loud and energetic sporty  American youth. The quiet, introverted unathletic Asian signed up anyway. I enjoyed the music but not the expected loud cheering and chanting. Finally we got to go to our first game. Our team color was red. I knew that much. However, I soon learned that I had no clue why they were shouting offense and defense and I couldn't for the life of me figure out when to shout which. I cheered for every basket made because I didn't get it. Sure, I was on some county sports team in 3rd grade, but I was the clueless one who probably never made a basket. (I only remember the Baskin Robbins and the licorice from my grandfather after a game which I guess we won, no thanks to me.) But I digress. The point is, I didn't get it and was the most unpeppy pep band member in the short history of the pep band.

I am a relational person. In order to care about something I personally have no interest in, I have to actually care about the people involved. Professional sports?! I seriously don't understand how you can pick favorite players. You don't even know them! You don't know what they're like in person, you don't know how they treat others, you. Don't. Know. Them. So how can you pick a favorite player?! The games means nothing if the people mean nothing to me personally.

September 2012. Enter the first time I watched a basketball game I cared about. I taught 6th grade for the first time and during intrams, many boys from my home room and other sections joined in the games. I watched the boys I had spent hours with every day as they tore down the court. I read their emotions and watched their facial expressions. The careless, quick tempered boys only proved those traits even more on court. The driven, fighter boys fought on court. For the very first time I felt transported with them in their game world. As I entered their world on court, I fell in love with basketball.

What?!?!? Did I just say that?! Ok, maybe I should clarify. NBA? Don't care. But our school games?! It's a new world for me but I love it. The first set of boys have since moved on up to 8th grade, but I have 7th grade boys from last year who are involved in the current battle for championship and one current 6th grader is also part. Their defeat today felt like a defeat to me and yet I found myself praying for their character out there. I love those boys like little brothers and I see they are fast becoming men. They are growing up in a world that centers around self and earthly goods. Manhood isn't characterized by compassion, humility and prayer these days. It's a dog eat dog world. Some boys and perhaps their parents make grades and sports idols. I found myself pleading for the hearts of these boys, that they would learn something about God today. I want them to know deep in the very core of their being that they cannot make it on their own. They are entirely dependent on God. And I want them to know that there is a much greater battle to be engaged in and that is the battle against sin. I want to see them fight for Christ and everything that matters for all eternity in the same way that they fight for that ball on court. No, I want them to fight harder than they fight on court. I want these young men to be Davids and Daniels in this selfish, dark world. The lessons on dependence, selflessness and teamwork will help mold them into men of character, but it all begins with whose side they are on - God's or the world's. I want them to win the championship basketball, but I would rather they win the battle against sin and the Devil and bow the knee completely before the God of all the earth. This battle is not fought physically but is waged on the battlefields of the minds of our young people. Winning this is really the only victory that actually matters. Championship? That's a bonus. May they all become soldiers of Christ.