I got a very rude, 7:20 am awakening, no thanks to the sun. Because my window faces east I always end up with sun in my eyes, even with the blinds closed. This was my first unplanned summer day and I wasn't completely sure what to do until I checked the weather report. WOOD radio called for thunderstorms today. So I immediately scarfed down my oatmeal and headed for Grand Haven.
Every area of West Michigan has it's pet laketown; Kalamazoo has South Haven, Cadillac has Manistee. For Grand Rapids, it's Grand Haven, an excellent choice. Unlike some towns that look like kitschy wastelands (ahem, Saugatuck!) Grand Haven is blessedly free of being taken over by touristy stuff. Of course it has a Harborwear on Washington St. But next door is a grocery store that's stood in the same spot since 1907. And right across from that is the Courthouse and church. People stay year round. You've got balance.
My goal was to see a thunderstorm roll in off the lake. Surprisingly, although I've lived my whole life near the lake, I've never seen a storm. Sure it's clouded up, but I've never been able to witness the impending terror of the blue nimbus billowing toward's the quaint harbour, churning up the waves, bringing fear in its wake. Nope. Haven't seen it. And I didn't see it this time either. Oh there were moments of hope, like when I got to the edge of the pier and saw the gray clouds, or when I saw the waves get higher and higher. But in the end, the sun came out...and so did a million high schoolers, celebrating the end of the year. I even ran into a couple of my students. But I decided it was time to go.
But the trip wasn't all a waste. The beach was cool, the water colder numbing my feet as I walked along the edge of the beach. And across the Grand River I could see people water skiing attached to kites. Pretty sweet. I also got to walk up and down Washington Street (The main road) and got the great priviledge of watching the town wake up. Washington St. is one of those places that could easily have been the backdrop of some 1940s movie. While walking in Central park I could almost picture Jimmy Stewart giving a speech in front of the town hall, or some paperboy named Dennis throwing papers at the storefronts (always missing the door). And even though the stores were more trendy, you could still picture a time when that gift shop at the corner was the after school hangout, and the men walked to work from their houses. It was just that wholesome. Grand Haven, by the way, is still a fantastic, family oriented community. I'd live there in a heartbeat.
A couple hours of wandering (and an AWESOME gelato!) later, I began to feel the heat of the sun, and decided it was time to head home. And get this, a few hours after I got home, the windiest, most intense storm of the season blew through. The outside looked like those news shots they show when a hurricane hits. I frowned. I missed it again. "One day" I thought. "One day I'll see the fearful churning lake storm" Then I went back to watching the Simpsons.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
The end...*sigh*
Today, at 2:30, I locked up a classroom at Kenowa Hills High School and headed out, probably for the last time. As I passed through the student-packed hallway, I could feel the excitement, an electric buzz which can signify only one thing: The end was near. That's right! It's early June and summer, for all practical purposes, has arrived.
This also means a three month break for me from signing hall passes, running the video projector, and coaxing foot-dragging teens into doing their work. It's funny, when I tell people that I work with teens, a look of pity comes across their face, then they say things like "Gosh, you're brave" or "I could never do that" When they say this they vaguely imply that my students are devil children. And those are the positive reactions.
It's nothing like that. In fact, when I got into my car I sighed wistfully, and realized that I could keep on doing this every day this summer. Now, there definitely are days when I question my career choice, but I always come back to wanting to teach. I truly like working with teens, even when they're having an ADD day. I like the whirlwind world of high school, with the constant procession of homecomings, fundraisers, proms and graduations. It's like getting a free daily ticket to the civic. I get to be the detached witness of it all. Sometimes it's draining, and you want to say "Don't you realize how shallow this is!" but mostly it's amusing. One thing's for sure, there's never a dull moment.
Another thing I like is the chance to help students. I absolutely love getting the chance to help a kid with some homework, or to teach them how to be responsible. While I won't be setting the world on fire, I still like the idea that I'm in a position to improve somebody's life. And it's funny also, how many people will ridicule me for this. I've had many people, mostly of the conservative bent, who believe that being a public school teacher is a useless job, a waste of time. After all, they say, I'll only end up affecting a handful of people in my career, so why bother. I've had many, many people imply what a waste of life my career choice is, but only two people who ever said it was a good choice. Now I know how a missionary feels.
And for three months, I have a break, from helping people, from serving the communties of Kent county. Sure I'll fill it up with camping, swimming, biking and running. But I think I'll be chomping at the bit to get back to school, to my "pointless" job and do some more
This also means a three month break for me from signing hall passes, running the video projector, and coaxing foot-dragging teens into doing their work. It's funny, when I tell people that I work with teens, a look of pity comes across their face, then they say things like "Gosh, you're brave" or "I could never do that" When they say this they vaguely imply that my students are devil children. And those are the positive reactions.
It's nothing like that. In fact, when I got into my car I sighed wistfully, and realized that I could keep on doing this every day this summer. Now, there definitely are days when I question my career choice, but I always come back to wanting to teach. I truly like working with teens, even when they're having an ADD day. I like the whirlwind world of high school, with the constant procession of homecomings, fundraisers, proms and graduations. It's like getting a free daily ticket to the civic. I get to be the detached witness of it all. Sometimes it's draining, and you want to say "Don't you realize how shallow this is!" but mostly it's amusing. One thing's for sure, there's never a dull moment.
Another thing I like is the chance to help students. I absolutely love getting the chance to help a kid with some homework, or to teach them how to be responsible. While I won't be setting the world on fire, I still like the idea that I'm in a position to improve somebody's life. And it's funny also, how many people will ridicule me for this. I've had many people, mostly of the conservative bent, who believe that being a public school teacher is a useless job, a waste of time. After all, they say, I'll only end up affecting a handful of people in my career, so why bother. I've had many, many people imply what a waste of life my career choice is, but only two people who ever said it was a good choice. Now I know how a missionary feels.
And for three months, I have a break, from helping people, from serving the communties of Kent county. Sure I'll fill it up with camping, swimming, biking and running. But I think I'll be chomping at the bit to get back to school, to my "pointless" job and do some more
Monday, June 2, 2008
Dancing on the Lake
Wow, what an eventful weekend. It all started over a month ago, when, out of the blue I recieved (via facebook!) an invitation to my friend "Laura's" wedding. We haven't seen really talkked to each other in about seven years. I was overjoyed.
Laura and I go back further than anyone else outside of our families...to the second grade. She was the first friend I met when I moved to Portage, and though we've drifted at times, we never ceased to be friends. I knew her parents, her friends, and even remember when she first met the skinny teen boy who would become her husband. All I knew was that the wedding would be in South Haven, the address and that I needed dancing shoes. So in the early afternoon on Saturday I got dressed up in my best clothes (minus the tie) and headed down the highway to South Haven. To my surprise it took me only an hour, leaving me a full hour early for the wedding, so I killed time by strolling through downtown South Haven. Having not been there for a few years, I was impressed with what they were doing to the place (such as restoring original storefronts). "Finally" I thought, "This place can actually look like a decent lakeside town!"
As it turned out, the wedding was about two miles south of town behind a hotel. After I was directed around the hotel, I saw it...that watery monstrosity we locals just call "the Lake". It's amazing; I've lived in around the lake my entire life and I still CANNOT get tired of it. It was just so immense, so sparkling blue beneath the cloudless sky. This was going to be one sweet afternoon.
As I wandered about the bluff I ran into some guys from my high school days...people who haven't seen me since I had hair! Once they got over the initial shock of seeing a shaved head, we began catching up, somewhat awkwardly, the way you do when you haven't seen someone in a decade. The wedding itself was spectacular. The bride and groom looked stunning, and much more grown up. They both cried through the ceremony and at times had to interrupt their vows to wipe their eyes.
The reception, held in a fluttering white tent next to the ceremony, was similarly awesome. As I sat with everyone, memories were exchanged, and updates about classmates in far flung places were tossed across the table. I just marveled at it all. Here we all were, at a mini class reunion. Some were married, some put on weight, some looked the same. I mentioned that just ten years ago we were finishing up our sophomore year, and that started a whole new round of reminicences.
As evening wore on, with our stomachs pleasantly filled with fajitas, the DJ cued up the dance floor and the movement started. I decided to walk off a bit of dinner along the bluff. The sun, now lower in the sky created a soft, orange-ish glow on everything around it. It was utterly gorgeous. I would have gazed for hours, but as Laura instructed me to dance with her, I decided to go back. As we danced, we chatted about our construction paper projects in 2nd grade, and the travails of adolescence and advice about relationships. She couldn't say enough times how happy she was that I came. She made me feel like the guest of honor. Her happiness made me happy. It was all so worth it.
After the dance, I talked with my classmates again, having some good conversations about leaving Michigan, something that's been on my mind. Liz, who chose to sub for two years before finally finding a job, said it was worth it, and that if she left, she wouldn't be here to make the place better. She was very encouraging. The music ended around 11 and I had to get back home. I said my round of goodbye's, wished Laura and her husband well, and hugged both of her parents, before leaving.
As I drove home, I thought a lot about roots. I had just spent my entire day surrounded by people I had grown up with, came of age with. It was a total throwback to the 1990s, but in some ways, it was as if I just graduated a year ago. the point is, I was in a place where people knew me, and still know me. It's familiar, and a nice place at that. And honestly, Lake Michigan kicks butt. Earlier this week, I had seriously considered leaving, almost looking forward to it in a way. I may still have to leave, but being surrounded by the natural beauty, and the great people makes my decision all the harder.
I danced on Lake Michigan. I had a good time. May many more good times come.
Laura and I go back further than anyone else outside of our families...to the second grade. She was the first friend I met when I moved to Portage, and though we've drifted at times, we never ceased to be friends. I knew her parents, her friends, and even remember when she first met the skinny teen boy who would become her husband. All I knew was that the wedding would be in South Haven, the address and that I needed dancing shoes. So in the early afternoon on Saturday I got dressed up in my best clothes (minus the tie) and headed down the highway to South Haven. To my surprise it took me only an hour, leaving me a full hour early for the wedding, so I killed time by strolling through downtown South Haven. Having not been there for a few years, I was impressed with what they were doing to the place (such as restoring original storefronts). "Finally" I thought, "This place can actually look like a decent lakeside town!"
As it turned out, the wedding was about two miles south of town behind a hotel. After I was directed around the hotel, I saw it...that watery monstrosity we locals just call "the Lake". It's amazing; I've lived in around the lake my entire life and I still CANNOT get tired of it. It was just so immense, so sparkling blue beneath the cloudless sky. This was going to be one sweet afternoon.
As I wandered about the bluff I ran into some guys from my high school days...people who haven't seen me since I had hair! Once they got over the initial shock of seeing a shaved head, we began catching up, somewhat awkwardly, the way you do when you haven't seen someone in a decade. The wedding itself was spectacular. The bride and groom looked stunning, and much more grown up. They both cried through the ceremony and at times had to interrupt their vows to wipe their eyes.
The reception, held in a fluttering white tent next to the ceremony, was similarly awesome. As I sat with everyone, memories were exchanged, and updates about classmates in far flung places were tossed across the table. I just marveled at it all. Here we all were, at a mini class reunion. Some were married, some put on weight, some looked the same. I mentioned that just ten years ago we were finishing up our sophomore year, and that started a whole new round of reminicences.
As evening wore on, with our stomachs pleasantly filled with fajitas, the DJ cued up the dance floor and the movement started. I decided to walk off a bit of dinner along the bluff. The sun, now lower in the sky created a soft, orange-ish glow on everything around it. It was utterly gorgeous. I would have gazed for hours, but as Laura instructed me to dance with her, I decided to go back. As we danced, we chatted about our construction paper projects in 2nd grade, and the travails of adolescence and advice about relationships. She couldn't say enough times how happy she was that I came. She made me feel like the guest of honor. Her happiness made me happy. It was all so worth it.
After the dance, I talked with my classmates again, having some good conversations about leaving Michigan, something that's been on my mind. Liz, who chose to sub for two years before finally finding a job, said it was worth it, and that if she left, she wouldn't be here to make the place better. She was very encouraging. The music ended around 11 and I had to get back home. I said my round of goodbye's, wished Laura and her husband well, and hugged both of her parents, before leaving.
As I drove home, I thought a lot about roots. I had just spent my entire day surrounded by people I had grown up with, came of age with. It was a total throwback to the 1990s, but in some ways, it was as if I just graduated a year ago. the point is, I was in a place where people knew me, and still know me. It's familiar, and a nice place at that. And honestly, Lake Michigan kicks butt. Earlier this week, I had seriously considered leaving, almost looking forward to it in a way. I may still have to leave, but being surrounded by the natural beauty, and the great people makes my decision all the harder.
I danced on Lake Michigan. I had a good time. May many more good times come.
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