Animal Alter Egos and Dating Advice for Strong Men: First and Second Grade Journals

In a move to broaden our writing horizons (from pet and video game stories), I've been assigning journal topics during daily writing. We're terrible spellers, but plenty thoughtful and creative.

"If I Were An Animal, I Would Be..."

...a lion I woud scare peopl so I scare peopl out of a restront and eta al of thaer food.

...a cheata. Because cheata's can run 60 miles (97 kiloneters) per hour. The reason I want to be a cheata is because I love cats and cheata are part of the cat faimly. But the thing I don't like about them is because cheata's are meat eators and I'm meat.

...a dog. because I like treats and. people petting me and. have sharp teeth and. have big ears like. my anuts dog.

...a Rabit i like to hope i love to Run and i like to hiDe. But i dont to be shot and be eating. But i do like carrets. But the only thing is that i like to swim and Rabits dont like to be cold and i dont like to be in a cage

...a Dinesor because they are bigger than any other animel. And no body can kill a Dinesor except Jesus. Except I wouldn't want to scare to many people away because then I wouldn't have any friends then. and they eat meet and I really like meet and they are strong and they have huge teeth. But one thing I don't about Dinesor is how they don't get cavities without brushing there teeth

...a dinasor because it is big and were the first animal made. they have big bones. and have blud. and likes meat and green stuff. and be a good dinasor and stomp.

...a baer because I like fish and I downt lik winter and I like sleping but If I wus a baer i wud skaer people but i like to eat to   but I wud want to brush my teeth after. But I wud want to be frinds wih people

A few of us are rather attached to our toothbrushes, I guess. This makes me laugh.

After a week of studying this fascinating Bible character (and collectively groaning over his dramatic ups and downs), I told the kids to write Sampson a letter as though he's still alive today. They could tell him what they liked, ask him questions, or give him advice. These were my faves:

Dear Sampson:

Please never marey a philisyn girl agan. Never let anyone ty you up agan. Never cut you'er Hair. Never drink wien. Never let anyone win a Batell agest you agan. allways trust in God. allways love God. Never kill you'er self agan.

Dear Sampson how did you kill a loin and how long was it untill you came back and the bee nest was thier? That was a good ridly you. did And how did you get such a good ida to bren the Fillasteans fields. Oh and I have some ed wiss don't let girls get in the way of you and God.

Dear Sampson I liked it when you killed one thousand Fillesteens with a Dead donky's jo bone. But I didn't like it when you were falling in love with fillesteen women. And I don't think you should have taken some honey from the lion you killed. You souldent have told your wife the awnswre to the ritel. p.s. try not to fall in love with more girl's okay

Why Criminals Are At a Disadvantage in the Winter

A kindergartener came running up to me at recess on Tuesday. "Ms. Djerf, Ms. Djerf, guess what! I go to Manhandle Class!"

This was a new one. "You do, Cory? What's that?"

The question he was hoping for, of course. "It's where we learn how to handle...I mean, man-handle bad people, like robbers and killers!"

"Oh. Wow." That was all I could muster.

"And in the winter," he continued, "we can do something special. We grab their hoods and choke them!" This was accompanied by vivid gestures which assured me that man-handle class involved hands-on practice.

I'm hoping we can keep the manhandling down out at recess (I think we're OK; although we have mutant gerbils and invisible zombies, we don't have any robbers or killers that I know of), but this I know: if I ever need just one kindergartener to walk with me through dark alleys, this guy will be my pick.

My Invisible Zombie Can Beat Up Your Invisible Zombie

I love recess duty.

Today, I observed a small group as they ran screaming from snowbank to snowbank, being pursued by an invisible zombie.  A particularly imaginative kindergartener dictated the storyline of the game, demonstrating what zombies sound and act like, and then throwing the rest into a panic with sudden shouts: "There he is!!"

The rest of the group obediently took off in delighted terror each time. "AAAhhhhhhh!!!!!"

One smaller boy played along for a little while, and then boldly decided that HE could sense the approach of the zombie, too. Before this, they had punctuated their endless escape by throwing themselves, panting, onto snowbanks (safety tip for future reference: invisible zombies can't catch OR bite you when you're on a pile of snow). But now, these time-outs grew shorter and shorter as the two competed to be the first one to yell, "There he is!" and hurtle headlong in the opposite direction.

The next time they paused near me, I overheard this same student take his bid for power one step further, as he attempted to explain to his comrades that "some zombies are actually good, and this one IS good, because he's in a cage..."

That's all the further he got, however. (When your enemy is invisible, and you're not the only person controlling its appearance, stopping to hypothesize about it is fruitless.)  Because the next second, someone else screamed, "There he is!"

And they were off.

When We Grow Up

"It is easy to decide what to be when you grow up: agree or disagree."

Once we could successfully discern the difference between agreeing and disagreeing, we had a lively discussion in first and second grade today around this topic.  Students placed their names on one side or the other, and then gave reasons for their choice.

Most of the class agreed that there are SO MANY interesting jobs that you could have, that it's very difficult to decide. However, three were remarkably decisive:

"I used to think it was hard, but now I think it's easy. Because when I was two years old, I didn't know what I wanted to be, but then when I was three years old, I heard about planes and jets and that you could fly them in the Air Force, and then I knew that I'm going to be in the Air Force. So then it was easy."  -- This from an ancient eight year old.

"Well, I think it's easy because I have a brother who does all these things that I can't do yet because I'm not old enough, but I just watch him, and I like everything he does, and then I can see what I want to do when I'm older, like guns and soccer. And they happen on different nights, so I'm pretty sure that I'll be able to do all of them."  -- I wonder if that exemplary eighth grader knows how much influence he exerts over his second grade brother.  I'm tempted to tell him.

"I think that you just have to find something that you really like to do and you're good at it, and then you just think of jobs that are perfect for that. Like, I'm good at singing, so I'm going to be a rock star."  -- I have a feeling that this child gets her daily dose of the Disney Channel. 

This made me think of my all-time favorite story from my roommate's third-grade class. Another time, another post...

Bloggish Introspection

My blog is having an identity crisis.

 

[Argh. Something about late nights brings out the thoughtful in me. I can sit down in the middle of the afternoon to write, and barely struggle through a handful of ideas before I fall asleep, but here it is, nearing midnight after a LONG week, and now I want to dump my mental drawers and sort them out...]  

 

When I started this blog, I deliberately chose not to pigeonhole it. I knew how well I categorize my visible, public life and perform for each category as expected, and I felt that I needed one place where all the crazy pieces of who I am were united, at least to the same degree that they are united within my fractured mind. 

 

A nice idea in theory; a silly one in practice.  I'm not sure what made me think I would turn into a different (less self-edited) person on a blog. I don't dump all of my laundry here; only the parts I'm willing to hang on a public clothesline. The pieces that look the best.

 

I have some ideas of what I don't want it to be.  I don't want this to just be a school blog of cute kid stories. I try to steer clear of the rambling journal-entry posts I'm prone toward. (This post is riding that slippery slope, but hey, it's late. My judgment ebbs when I'm low on sleep.) I don't want it to be too heavy, or too light. I want it to be fun and thought-provoking.  I want it to turn my readers toward God, but I also harbor a nature which wants, desperately so, to look good. 

I'm not a huge fan of dirty laundry blogs -and don't anticipate this one joining the ranks- but I'm wondering about my honesty and my purpose in writing.  One of the themes God has placed before me for 2011 is that it is to be a year of turning from seeking my own glory to declaring His glory. 

 

I don't know what this will mean for my writing here, but I'm asking God for two things: first, for the changes within my heart to love His glory more than my own; and second, for opportunities to give Him glory in whatever ways He wants.  Next January, I hope to be able to write a testimonial of my faithful, loving, full-of-surprises Father and His actions all around me in 2011!

Catching On

"Miss Djerf, I know Mr. Popper is the main character in this story!!!" And then Jeffrey went on to explain why he knew this to be true.

 

That one comment (blurted in the middle of our read-aloud) was a bit of sunshine I'm poking away in my pocket, where I can stick my hand in from time to time and soak up the warmth.  Turns out Jeffrey, who appeared to be communing with distant galaxies during this week's reading lessons, knows what a character is AND how to find the "main-est" one!

 

It's not much, but it's a pretty happy something as far as I'm concerned.

Misplaced Creativity

My heart pounded, my mind raced, my fingers hovered above my keyboard. And my memory was...empty.  The cursor blinked impatiently in the "Password" box, taunting me. All I could remember was that I'd been pleased with the creativity of my password on the day I created it.

 

Which is the problem. My creativity, that is. It loves to show up when new passwords must be entered. I think it's the revenge it exacts after having sat mute while I filled in the requisite membership information on whatever new website I joined.  I'm enough of a rule-follower that I stick with true answers to things like name and address. Practicality demands simple usernames, too. But I get to the password box, and the world is my oyster -- or so my creativity thinks. 

 

Ah, it suggests. I have a perfect, obscure combination of movie lines or painting titles or animal words written backwards, all relating to this website in a bizarre way, that will be hack-proof and even a bit snarky. It will bring a secret smile to your face every time you type it in.

 

My mind agrees: of course!  Who doesn't want a password which pins an invisible badge of coolness on you at each use?

 

The only problem with an invisible badge is that once you drop it, it's difficult to recover...

 

Thus, my mental fumbling around once again tonight. That happy memory of feeling clever -- well, it turned out to have no relation to the memory of the actual password.  Guess I'll have to move on, abandoning the old one in favor of one I can actually remember.

 

Take that, creativity.

Holy, Happy Words

"And then he said a bunch of holy, happy words!"

This was Grayson's summary of what Zechariah did "when he could finally talk again" (following the birth of John). We review the Christmas story every December in my class -so I know the story inside and out- but this little catchphrase snagged my mind. He was right; Zechariah's words bubble over with joy, yet they are immensely sacred.

This is the beginning of his prophecy:
"Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
For He has visited us and accomplished redemption for His people,
And has raised up a horn of salvation for us
In the house of David His servant--" (vv. 68-69)

And here are his prophetic words over his newborn son:
"And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
For you will go on before the Lord to prepare His ways;
To give to His people the knowledge of salvation
By the forgiveness of their sins,
Because of the tender mercy of our God,
With which the Sunrise from on high will visit us,
To shine upon those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death,
To guide our feet into the way of peace." (vv.76-79)

A few thought-bursts of my own on these holy, happy words:

• I love how God works on the macro and the micro levels at the same time. He's bringing about salvation for the world, yet He knew the deepest heart-cries of Zechariah and Elizabeth for a child. I've seen it in my life on a smaller scale, the way that God brings things together which answer many different prayers in one situation.

• It seems to me that Zechariah's desire for a Messiah may perhaps have exceeded his desire for a son (this prophecy doesn't have a "me" in it -- Zechariah was rejoicing in the Big Picture and the fact that God was going to use his son in the middle of it!). While carrying an unsatisfied hope in his heart for all those years, he wasn't poisoned or overtaken by it.

• Often, holy, happy words such as these are preceded by disappointment, struggle, pain, and lots and lots and lots of waiting. God works waiting into a lot of things. Apparently, He doesn't see it in the same negative light I usually do.

• My favorite phrase is "with which the Sunrise from on high will visit us." I am awed by the sunrise as I drive toward it every morning. Every day, the world transforms as it turns toward the sun. Gradually, the light makes everything visible. Some days, it's dramatic. Other days, clouds make the exact moment imperceptible, but the light comes nonetheless.

Mmmm...

I so desire that the Sunrise from on high will illuminate a dark struggle I'm witnessing in a nearby marriage.

I'm asking Him to shine on a student's mother who's facing cancer.

I want the warming light of His tender mercy to comfort my dear friend who's facing her first Christmas without her husband or mother.

I am crying out to Him to shine the light of His mercy over past hurts, that they may see His hand both then and now. I'm begging Him to surround them with the light of His presence now, that they may rest fully in it. And I'm asking Him to fortify and energize them with hope in Him for tomorrow.

I'm praying that they may have the strength to continue trusting God while waiting for His sunrise, that they may someday (soon, I hope!) burst forth with some holy, happy words of their own.

"I waited patiently for the LORD;
And He inclined to me and heard my cry.
He brought me up out of the pit of destruction, out of the miry clay,
And He set my feet upon a rock making my footsteps firm.
He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God;
Many will see and fear
And will trust in the LORD." (Psalm 40:1-3)

What Do You Get When You Cross the WWF with Overgrown Rodents? Recess, Naturally

Stepped back as a stream of heavily insulated children thumped past me, all in pursuit of one fourth grade boy.  Snagged one I know to be a storyteller, inquiring, "What on earth are you guys playing?"

 

He cheerfully brushed snow from his face. "It's a fun game. We all chase Bart, and then we pile drive him!"

 

I was obligated to create a new rule. "Hey, no pile driving at recess."

 

"I know," he responded, "but if we don't, then HE touches US, and he turns us into mutant gerbils, just like he is!"

 

Which made the pile driving entirely acceptable, of course.  Can't have a bunch of mutant gerbils running around at recess.