Tag: teenagers

The Sixteen-Year Test

Posted on June 2, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

Sixteen years ago today I was waiting to give birth to my first baby. Today, I’m waiting for that baby to take her first SATs. The words of my grandmother ring loudly in my ears, reminding me of how fast the time goes.

I always thought that was old people just complaining, whining about missed opportunities and broken promises. I wondered if they wished they had done life differently, had spent more time pushing their kids in the swing or reading them bedtime stories. I briefly considered how that would feel, and tucked it away inside that long list of things I would never do as a parent, a list carefully created over years of trying to correct other parents mistakes that ended up in my classroom.

She was probably in her eighties when I started noticing the pain in her voice as she recalled her glory days of pigtails, freshly ironed short pants and dinners around the oval oak dinner table. Most vestiges of her children were long ago relics of days she cherished, only the occasional tear in her eye as evidence of when she felt truly happy.

Sixteen years ago, I was not thinking of the memories that would be building from the moment she was born; I was thinking of how strong I could be to make it through the labor, and not much else. I worried about how life would change and could I do all the right mommy moves to make sure she was safe, nourished, and nurtured. Never did I think this far into the future that she would be walking out of my car and working towards leaving me.

As I sit here, watching car after car pull in, I tense as the clock ticks towards the starting time. Kids continue to pour in even after they have no hope of admission through the testing door. I watch them come back, rejected, and notice a mom not willing to take no for an answer. Her son protests as she resolutely marches him back in, determined to give him another chance. Minutes later when she returns alone, I see love etched into every fiber of her face; the kind of strength it sometimes takes to be a parent.

Sixteen years ago, I had no idea what it would take to be a parent. I knew it was something I wanted for my life, not understanding the determination, dedication and sheer will it would take. I didn’t understand why it would be so hard to watch her ride off on her bike alone, to let go of her hand at the corner of the school building, or let her take over the car steering wheel. I did not imagine the pain of watching her cry or struggle through friendships that had ended or defeats on the ski hill. I didn’t comprehend the many, many hours I would lose sleep to hold her tight, rock her gently, or support her through the different phases of growing up.

Sixteen years ago I never imagined the tests my baby would put me through, or how she would help me grow into a better human. When she walks back to me today I will welcome her with the swirls of my grandmother’s voice running through my head, and realize that what she said really is true: they do grow up so fast, and the years pass by far too quickly. I will lock this memory into my mind, knowing all too well that when she finishes this test, another will present itself, challenging me to dig deep and take it on.

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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iPhones and Feeling Old

Posted on May 30, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

Sometimes I just feel old. The world doesn’t seem to view me with the same lens I do as I look out into it. The outside package doesn’t look too bad- not much grey, the wrinkles haven’t yet developed into deep chasms, and I can still get around pretty fast in four-inch platforms. I know the latest text lingo, can probably name the top 10 pop artists, and am pretty darn savvy with social media. Occasionally, I can even still party like a rock star.

Last night was a different story. Maybe it had something to do with the gardening I did all day, or overdoing it on the treadmill-no denying the body doesn’t respond the way it used to. Perhaps it was the fact that I actually had to think about the supervision of my kids before I could head out on a Saturday night-that’s what grownups do, right?

Most likely, though, what it came down to was the Apple Store.

Firstly, going to the Apple Store involves driving to the mall. That part doesn’t make me feel so old-there are many people much more advanced in age than I am strolling around malls. Just not on a Saturday night. At 8 p.m. there are only young people in the mall. Most of the stroller crowd has headed home, and the parents with elementary school age kids have long headed towards the sanity of their own four walls. On a Saturday night, there are a few ‘date night’ folks like me, and just a whole lot of young adults ‘hangin’out’.

I don’t spend a whole lot of time in malls –hardly ever – but when I do go, it’s for a purpose. Like shopping for something specific. I have no interest-I never have, really, for getting all dressed up to walk in circles watching other people watch me. Seems like a waste of time.

So as we navigated past the posers strutting around with their hands on their crotches looking like they just walked off the set of their latest music video, I got edgy. Walking into the Apple Store swarming with folks trying out the newest gadgets made me downright anxious. I would have been fine with turning around and heading out, but we had a purpose: we enrolled in the ‘Advanced iPhone’ class, and it was ready to begin. Just enrolling in the class means I’m old, right?

The cheerful instructor casually placed the black folding chairs in the center of the store, motioned us to plop down beside her and began her lesson. Alongside us were three other women, obviously MUCH more senior than I was, all equally eager to learn how to operate their smart phones.

Am I really that ancient?

I have to hand it to our instructor-she didn’t blink an eye when asked about contacts, calendars and finding our phone number. When she started getting into more complex parts, the questions began rolling right in, and still she didn’t roll her eyes or look at her students like the idiots we must have seemed like to her.

I could feel my hair turning grey and the wrinkles deepening as she spoke. I realized I was surely old enough to be her mother, and wondered how that could have happened. Then she started talking about her dad, and how he loves to face-time (is that a verb?) with her, sending photos of their dogs. Is that what she thinks I do, too? Ack!

When satisfied we knew all about face time, iCloud and Siri, we hustled out the door and found the nearest chairs.

“Wow, that was over my head. Want to get some dinner?” my husband asked.

“Sure,” I replied. “Let’s ask Siri where to go!”

“That’s too complicated,” he responded. “Let’s just look at a map.”

Maybe they’re right. Maybe we are that old. Do you think Siri will know the answer to that question if I ask?

I bet there’s a few things I could teach her, too.

Jennifer Wolfe

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Are Smart Phones A Dumb Idea?

Posted on May 17, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

Technology can be a beautiful thing. We feel instantly connected, safe and well informed just by carrying a little 4-inch contraption in our pockets. It keeps us up to date on breaking news, lets us know when we’re late for an appointment, and can transport us across continents in a matter of seconds. Parents monitor their children, spouses know what’s for dinner, and employees can let employers know when they’re running late.

Then there’s the ugly part.

As much as we teach our kids to be safe on the internet, don’t give out personal information and make sure to let us know exactly where they are, there’s one ugly thing about technology: a lack of manners.

At my middle school, we do not allow cell phones to be out during the day. That means from when kids step onto campus until they leave at the end of the day, phones are not to be seen or heard. For the most part, kids respect the policy. There are no ear buds hanging down their bodies, and it is rare for me to see a phone out in class. However, I spent the morning in a high school today, and I was shocked at what I saw.

Phones were everywhere. They were crammed in tiny jean short front pockets, stuffed in back pockets, slipped in and out of backpacks and sometimes blatantly hanging out on the desk. And not the free-with-a-new-line type of phones – I’m talking smart phones. Kids all around me were seemingly more engaged in what was happening on their touch screen than what the teacher was presenting. There were varying degrees of compliance-some actually broke away from their texting to participate in the activity-but then just as quickly went back to checking Facebook or listening to music.

I love my smart phone just like anyone else, but what I saw today disturbed me on many levels. I saw the pack mentality at work. If one kid is allowed, the rest follow. If one teacher doesn’t mind, the rest fight an uphill battle. But what might have bothered me the most is the complete lack of respect for what the teacher was trying to do in the classroom; as engaging as he was, he couldn’t compete with the little electronic box cradled in their hands.

I’ve been teaching in the technology generation most of my career. At first, I noticed my student’s desire for instant gratification that video games bred. Then came the demand for a teacher to be an entertainer. Now it seems that our society is allowing citizens to forget their manners and validate a lack of common courtesy.

Come on, people. This is turning ugly. Technology can be a beautiful thing, but let’s use it politely. Teach our children well.

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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Discover a New Author…EC Stilson

Posted on April 24, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

In 2011, The Golden Sky by EC Stilson became one of the hundred best-selling books about loss on Amazon! Wayman Publishing is now excited to announce the release of Bible Girl—the prequel to The Golden Sky. This is the amazing true story of a hilarious girl trying to find her way through the teen years. Bible Girl was just accepted into the Barnes & Noble catalog and will be .99 for a limited time HERE.

Please join voiceBoks, Giveaway Promote, Good Steward Savers, Terri’s Little Haven, and Linkie’s Contest Linkies in promoting this wonderful book launch. Here’s a little blurb about the book:

The book practically cried for me to spare its life, and for a moment I thought I’d rather burn in Hell than lose something my brother had given me in love. The pastor nudged me, though, and my heart turned to ice.

I thought of all those hours my brother had read to me. I thought of all that time he’d invested.

I couldn’t throw it into the fire; not the last book of the trilogy. That funny little dwarf stared at me from the cover. Then, I closed my eyes. I stepped so close to the flames they almost ate my skin. I tore the book in front of those kids. I put on quite a show throwing in a section at a time because I couldn’t stand sending the whole thing in at once. When the last pages went up in flame, and the dwarf on the cover curled with death, I dropped to my knees and cried. The kids all hooted and screamed in ecstasy, thinking I’d been freed, when the ropes of religion had just twisted tighter.

Elisa isn’t your regular nerd. She’s not the kind of person who quotes Monty Python, or has a periodic table tattooed on her butt. No she’s a different sort altogether. She carries a duct-taped Bible, wears bright-orange polyester pants, and dyes her hair with red Kool-Aid.

Although she tries slipping by apart from the crowds, it doesn’t help that her best friend happens to be the “Boarder,” one of the cutest and most popular boys in school.

It isn’t until Elisa realizes she’s surrounded by hypocrites that her foundation starts crumbling. She doesn’t know who to turn to. That’s when she meets a mysterious man. But maybe she shouldn’t trust him after all.

Will he help her, or make things even worse than they were before?

This giveaway was made possible by the following sponsors:

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Jennifer Wolfe

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