Posted on May 11, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe
Oh how I hate those gossipy little bitches
With nothing better to do than
Run
From one to the next
Spreading their toxicity
Oh how I hate those weak, spineless people
With time on their hands
And
Words on their tounges
That hurt
Oh how I hate those small, little humans
Who find pleasure in their meekness
Not
Pain in their accusations and
Falsehoods
Oh how I hate those shallow little adults
Who talk behind backs and
Doors
Instead of having courage to
Communicate
Oh how I hate those parts of myself
That care what they say
And
Give them any notice or
Ammunition.
Posted on April 7, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe
If you hold it in one more hour
And your insides will stop absorbing
While your body will simply
Have you ever felt that
If you don’t find someone to
Listen or
Care
It will dribble
And spew out your mouth
Urgently
While your friends will simply
Watch
And weep?
Have you ever felt that
If you say it out loud
Honestly and
Deeply
It will change
And you will gather yourself up
Gracefully
While your soul will simply
Endure
And persist?
Posted on April 1, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe
Shortly after I posted this photo on Facebook I received a phone message from my mother. She’s not a Facebook user, but became concerned after my younger brother alerted her that something might be wrong, since I posted a big red sign on my wall.
At first I had no clue what she was talking about. I figured it was just a glitch in her understanding about Facebook. Suddenly it dawned on me what they were worried about, and I reassured her that everything was OK.
Only, it’s not really OK.
These are difficult times for many Americans. For teachers and students, it’s getting nearly impossible.
My school district is attempting to balance their deficit budget by laying off employees. They’re threatening to furlough teachers again, which means at least a 5% pay cut next year. Districts have met their March 15 layoff notification date ‘over notifying’ teachers, administrators and counselors in preparation for the state budget ‘worst case scenario’.
These people are me and my friends, my colleagues, and your child’s teachers, vice principals and counselors. They are the people who run the after school programs children turn to for enrichment and support. They are the teachers who used to make it easier for kids to have smaller class sizes and take elective classes that provide an alternative to core academic classes. They are the elementary school teachers who create a stable foundation for the rest of your child’s education.
So yes, these are difficult times for me to go to work each day, wondering what my job will look like next year, what my school will look like, and what my son and his friends can expect to find as they end years of anticipation for junior high life. These are difficult times for my daughter and her friends as they see the end of their high school years and now look forward to skyrocketing college tuition and challenging admission processes.
These are difficult times to see highly qualified professionals being released from their service. These are difficult times to answer the probing questions from my students. These are difficult times when I find myself questioning my 21-year career in education, and wondering how much longer it will last.
So I’m sorry, Mom. It’s difficult to explain this sometimes. It’s really difficult to see the opportunity here, but I’m trying.
I hope it makes you feel better to know that when I walk into my class each day, I smile. That part is not difficult at all.
Posted on March 29, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe
Guest Post by Shelly Garcia
A few months ago, my friend’s father passed away. She says she was not really that close to him, but he was still her father. I wanted to show some respect, so I decided I wanted to send her something.
I was very indecisive about what to get her. I checked online because I wanted to have it delivered to her house. I checked for flowers, candy, food and I finally decided on a fruit gift basket.
There are many different styles of
gift baskets to choose from, but I found the perfect one for her. It was big enough that she could share with her family, yet not too big. I didn’t want something so big that the fruit would go bad before someone could eat it. The one I chose had a variety of fruit. Also had some chocolate hidden in there, too. What goes better with fruit than chocolate, right?
She was very happy when it was delivered. She said it was fresh and tasty and like it was just picked from a garden. I think that’s the most important thing when sending a fruit basket. It needs to be fresh, and for me, full of color. I would appreciate that someone sent it to me, but if I received one that had rotten, smelly fruit, I think I would be a little upset. The fresher the better, right?
Something else that I like to look at is the basket it comes in. You can reuse those baskets for plants, mail, coffee filters, and, in my case, make-up. Some people put plastic fruit in them. That’s not my style. If I put fruit out, I want it to be real. I don’t want any guests coming over to grab something out of the basket and take a big bite only to find out that it is a plastic apple. I would feel so embarrassed, wouldn’t you?
Posted on January 14, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe
“People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” – Maya Angelou
For a moment on Wednesday night, I was worried. 20 freshmen and sophomores, gas stoves, sharp knives and the need to prepare and serve dinner for 40+ people in less than an hour? I questioned my choices.
As my students trickled into the shelter that night I quickly jumped into teacher mode and soon had the industrial sized kitchen humming with activity. Onions were chopped, meat was browning, cornbread was mixing up and tables were being set.
Little by little, my nervousness was replaced by problem solving. No measuring cup? No problem – use an app to convert cups to tablespoons. No, I don’t know how to use an industrial sized coffee maker – find someone to help you. And they did.
After a while, any passerby might have thought these kids were running the kitchen of the best restaurant in town. They were even wiping up after themselves! As they cooked they bonded with each other, and eased their own jitters about meeting the strangers waiting outside the door.
The real lesson came after the food was prepared and the homeless guests lined up to be served. With eagerness and compassion, these children served men and women who were actually not so different from themselves. Slowly they ventured towards the dinner tables
Sitting side by side and sharing a meal broke down the scariness. Stories began to move back and forth, child and adult bonding over simple food and a common desire to get to know each other’s story. I stood back and watched the transformation, and beamed with pride at the acts of compassionate justice occurring before my eyes.
