Tag: fears

Indonesia Morning

Posted on July 23, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

Sitting in my western style hotel room, sitting in a comfortable bed sipping coffee and watching CNN, I might think I’m at home in America. Then I hear the faint strains of the morning prayers broadcast outside, and am instantly clear that outside this window is a completely different world than what I’m used to.

After only 76 hours in Indonesia I’m beginning to understand some of the systems. The Indonesian people are all about hospitality and helpfulness, even when they don’t speak my language. I’m having a hard time learning Indonesian phrases – for some reason, they don’t hit my ear correctly and I cannot memorize even the simplest words.

I’ve learned not to take photos in a grocery store, to use my hand in a downward flat palm position when I need to push through a crowd (personal space is very limited), and that cold Bintang beer tastes great after a day hanging out with a Komodo dragon in the 91 degree humid weather

I’ve learned that teachers in Indonesia worry about many of the same things we do in the US – how to celebrate and teach diversity, how to engage students who are more interested in social media than school, and how to preserve their cultural identity, all on a salary of $150-$300/month.

Today I begin teaching in a religious boarding school. I’m hopeful that I make easy connections with the students and can understand what we can do to make our world a little bit better by working together. I know the Indonesian people are as eager to learn from us as I am from them!

Please follow my adventure on travels with mamawolfe – you’ll realize that we’re really more alike than we are different!

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Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.

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Turning Ideas Into Realities

Posted on July 16, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

Have you ever had an idea that you wondered if you could make it work?

Did you lose sleep at night running it over and over in your mind, searching out the pros and cons, the rights and wrongs, the hows and whys?

Did you share it with your friends, ask for advice on Facebook, or search out an expert?

Did you try jumping in all at once, or take baby steps to test it out?

We teach our children to be adventurous, to raise their hand and share their thoughts, and to try new foods. We expect them to do things we never did ourselves, to speak for us when we cannot find our own voice, and to teach us how to use the newest technology that we do not understand.

For many of us, change is scary. We like the known over the unknown. Taking a chance means risking making a mistake, failing, or facing ridicule. Taking a chance means we might need to show our weaknesses. Taking a chance is also how we learn our life lessons.

I like to think that the older I get, the wiser I become. I let loose my inhibitions and step into situations that would have paralyzed me ten years ago. Sometimes it’s more of a physical challenge: I cast out on open water, soar through the air, or push myself to exhaustion.

Other times the mental task seems just as daunting: applying for a new program, sharing my thoughts, or taking on the terrifying task of parenting teenagers.

This week, two of my writer friends are taking on their own new challenge by bringing their idea into reality. Val and Kathy have created a website, Bonbon Break, designed to provide a space to share their thoughts, wisdom, humor and ideas with like-minded women, and I am honored to be one of the contributing writers in their first edition with my parenthood post on teaching social responsibility.

If you’re looking for a little inspiration, some interesting thoughts, and a great example of making your ideas come true, visit Bonbon Break! You’ll be happy you did.

Jennifer Wolfe

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Growing Slowly or Standing Still?

Posted on July 11, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

How many of us feel this way?

Teenagers, so desperate to be mature, try on new styles, trends, and personas in their attempts at growing up quickly. Watching my middle school students evolve over the course of a school year crystallizes my belief that it’s all part of the process of life.

I remember one of my 8th grade students who was typically a nice, ‘normal’ type of kid- not a trouble maker, well liked, quiet in class. Over the course of a week he started acting out – being a bit disruptive, more aggressive, and walked with a bit of swagger. My teaching partner and I started noticing and became concerned. When we approached him, he smiled and said, “Oh, no worries – I’m just trying something new.” And sure enough, after a few weeks he was back to his old self.

I wonder what happens to this urgency when we hit adulthood. The desperation seems to be replaced with fear, the excitement with sadness, the hopefulness with complacency. When adults ‘try something new’ we often are accused of having a mid-life crisis; it’s no wonder that so many retreat back into their old habits, more content with the familiar than the unknown. Where is the creativity that so absolutely bursts out of a child, only to be smothered by so many logical plans in adulthood? Does it get buried deep in our souls, or does it simply evaporate in our quest for the ‘American dream’?

But in those quiet minutes before we start each day, how many of us consider this: are we growing slowly or simply standing still? Are we reaching deep for that lost self that intuitively knew to go out into the world and try? Where is the tipping point where we dip our toe into an unfamiliar location, wade into a new experience, or dive into a new part of ourselves? Are we really too old to grow?

Where are you today? What are you afraid of?

Jennifer Wolfe

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365 Days of Finding My Voice

Posted on June 27, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

When I was a little girl, I was terribly shy. Talking to most people was a physical impossibility for me – I’d rather hide behind a tree than have to speak to my friend’s parents as they opened their door. I was perfectly content burying myself in library books, finding great adventures through someone else’s life stories.

It was amazing to me, as I started my teaching career, that I could actually stand in front of people – children and adults – and actually say something that people wanted to hear. I still have those moments, honestly, when I look out at my classroom in amazement that every eye is on me. Kind of makes me shudder sometimes.

Contrary to many childhood lessons, being shy is not a disability. There are benefits, of course, but it takes a great deal of self-reflection to discover them. Shyness means that one can step back, observe situations, and hopefully think before speaking. Being shy is a great quality for people watching – one of my favorite hobbies. And of course, being shy allows us to create our own thoughts and opinions without having to share them with anyone else – which would create an opportunity for making a mistake.

First-born children, like me, are somehow inbred to be perfect. Just ask my sister, who came only 13 months behind me. No matter what I did, it was always subject to great scrutiny as the ‘golden child’. That’s a mighty high reputation to uphold, for sure.

Living life as a shy, first born of first-borns created an inner determination to break the cycle with my own first-born. Wanting so desperately for my daughter to have her own voice, however, was really what allowed me to find my own.

Suddenly I couldn’t hide anymore-I was someone’s mom. I needed to be the one to speak, teach, and nurture the little voice I had created. At times, her ‘voice’ nearly deafened me in those early days, but as she grew, we blossomed together. We both learned to ask for what we wanted, demand what we needed, and express our feelings and beliefs clearly.

So last summer when I let loose this blog, my voice was born. Surely, it was shaky at best, but it stumbled out of me and landed firmly on the page and kept tumbling and somersaulting and back flipping until before I knew it, I was a writer. Thousands of others, some as introverted as I, were hearing my voice.

Over the last 365 days, I’ve learned to trust it, listen to it, and share it. I’ve learned to pause, ponder and pour it out onto the page. I’ve learned to watch and heed the commentary it produces, to observe the emotions it creates, and to suspend that inner critic who cautions me that I’m treading on the brink of disaster.

Now that I have a little girl, I’m not so shy. Talking to most people is not a physical impossibility anymore – as long as I can let my fingers do it for me.

Jennifer Wolfe

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The Bullies, Bullied and Bystanders: Which One Is Mine?

Posted on May 7, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

via Photobucket

55 middle school students and I crowded into our local movie theater this week, not sure what we would experience. Our group was a combination of kids from several classes at school, mixed ages, races, and genders, but the common thread that pulled us together was our experiences with bullying.

I don’t think there’s a person alive who hasn’t felt bullied. Sadly, it seems to be part of the human experience. And it’s not just kids that bully-I’ve experienced adults bullying kids as well as other adults. Working in schools as long as I have might have made my bully radar more heightened than most, but I still remember the childhood feeling of wanting to melt into the earth rather than be the last one chosen for a team, or the criticism for how I dressed or how quietly I spoke. I remember my high school classmate who died at the hands of a bully.

In fact, bullying has reached such epidemic levels that some independent filmmakers followed kids with video cameras for a year, inside and outside of school, to document exactly what is happening with bullying in America. The resulting film,“Bully”, is heartbreaking, terrifying, and leaves the audience wondering what to do next.

via Photobucket

It didn’t take long for the mood in the theater to change from excitement to shock. Watching regular, American kids experience verbal, physical and emotional abuse on the big screen made my popcorn unappealing, and had me reaching for a tissue. I felt my body convulse with sobs as I watched Ty’s parents bury their 11-year-old son, a boy who reminds me so much of my own. As his mother, nearly comatose, rocked in his bedroom, wondering what she could have done to prevent his suicide, it was more than I could take. I wanted to scream at the screen, lash out at the pathetic creatures who taunted this little boy day after day until he felt, at 11 years old, his life wasn’t worth living. What person has the right to inflict this type of torture on another human being?

During our debrief after the film, my students kept coming back to the parents. How could they not have known what was happening? And what kind of parents would raise children to think that this type of behavior was acceptable? I wonder myself, if the parents of bullies even have an idea of what their kids are doing to other children. Do they think that they’ve raised their son or daughter to be intolerant of differences, to be an aggressor, to be a bully? And do they feel responsible for their child’s actions, even the slightest, when they find out that the baby they raised has turned into someone who takes joy in bringing others pain?

And I wonder about the parents of those who are bullied. Do they know what their child endures every day as they ride the bus to school, walk the halls, or eat in the lunchroom? Is their child ashamed to share their experience as a victim? I wonder what I would do if my son or daughter came home and told me that they never wanted to go back to school, that they had no friends, and they didn’t want to face another day.

Days later, these thoughts continue to clog my brain. I tuck my 12-year-old son into bed at night, and wonder why and how he’s escaped this torture. I watch my 15-year-old daughter, weary with studying, and wonder how she has escaped the cyber bullying. And then I wonder, do I really know what’s going on with them? Do they see this happening at school? Are they bullied? A bully? A bystander?

I tell myself all is well, I’m doing my job, and they are safe.

I wonder if Ty’s parents thought that, too.

Jennifer Wolfe

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