One of my biggest projects this school year – so far – is to establish a creative writing club for our high school. I started with a vision and my previous experience of working with my teacher bestie, Dorri, to start a writing club at my previous school. To say that I learned from that experience is an understatement.
In that club Dorri and I worked to establish at St. Michael School, we dealt with technology issues, age differences (serving young middle grade students as well as middle school students), not to mention the hazards of the COVID 19 pandemic. It is crazy to think that we achieved anything at all. Yet, we did in a small way, even if the larger St. Michael community didn’t always recognize it.
We may have had a small core of roughly half a dozen students, but they were truly interested. They eagerly learned from one another. My 7th and 8th students demonstrated patience with Dorri’s 3rd graders, many of whom were just learning how to more fully express themselves in writing, expanding their thinking along with their vocabulary. Dorri’s 3rd graders brought enthusiasm and fresh perspectives to their older peers’ projects.
When I started at Michigan Virtual Charter Academy this past fall, I knew that I wanted to become involved in some kind of club. While I knew that we had a well-developed esports program, I didn’t exactly know what other clubs were offered. It turned out that while we offer an academic creative writing class, we did not have a creative writing club. Well, I sought to change that. So far, I have succeeded.
At the beginning of the school year, I focused on creating an online classroom full of resources I could have only dreamed of as a high school student in love with writing. There are dozens of websites to explore, hundreds of writing prompts, inspiring quotes, book recommendations, and so much more. Then, I watched over several weeks as my students connected and explored common interests. They grew as writers and found the confidence to share their work and a little bit about themselves. Students then spent much of the semester writing pieces intended for eventual publication, likely a blog. What happened next, I did not see coming.
We may have to wait until next school year to publish anything, but not only are both the principal and assistant principal extremely supportive, our head of school now knows about the project. In fact, I’ve received nothing but positive feedback. Right now, I am working on helping to ensure we keep moving ahead in the right direction. Who knows where this will take us? Already, I have had two new club members join in the first few weeks of this new semester. They’ve fit in seamlessly, which is a testament to the culture my students created. I am incredibly proud of what they’ve achieved!
I did not set out to become a teacher, I left that to my younger sister Erica. As her older sister, I’ve never known her to want to be anything other than a teacher and a mother. I envied the fact that she was so certain about her desired profession, not to mention her dedication to her love of children. When we played school – and we did often – I ended up being the school librarian while she insisted on being the teacher. Until our younger brother was born when I was age 10 and Erica age 7, we didn’t have a single pupil. By the time he was two, Erica made our toddler brother a series of report cards, grading him on things like “listening” and “sitting still.” But, this isn’t my sister’s story. It is mine.
My story of pursuing a career as a secondary teacher is by no means conventional. In fact, it is so unconventional and challenging that I would recommend it to no one. If it weren’t for the facts that teaching is in my DNA and I am meant to be a teacher, I would have given up long, long ago. Instead, I doubled-down when I was faced with what at the time seemed to be insurmountable obstacles. I even went back to substitute teaching when needed while deciding what my next step would be. I am a better person, and teacher, for it.
Every story needs to start somewhere, and mine starts with the statement that teaching is in my blood. It truly is. As a genealogist, as far as I can tell, the teaching tradition goes back at least five generations on my mom’s side of the family. It likely goes back even further. Both of Mom’s grandmothers taught, and one of her grandfathers served as principal of his daughters’ elementary school, as well as coach.
Interestingly, the teaching careers of my great-grandmothers could not have been more different. I knew both Grammy Bea (Beatrice Williams), who taught kindergarten and first grade for decades at the height of the baby boom, and Great (Leona Buttrick), who taught in a one-room schoolhouse and quit teaching once she married my great-grandfather Hatley. Although these are stories for another time, their careers illustrate massive changes in public education.
Funnily enough, the teaching tradition isn’t exactly confined to mom’s side of the family. Even though neither of my dad’s parents had the opportunity to further their education, they highly encouraged their children to do so. Both did, and even though my dad and his sister didn’t necessarily see eye-to-eye on much of anything, I find it telling that they both married teachers. On the Suszko side of Dad’s family, there are several special education and agricultural teachers. In fact, my cousin Kristy, a woman with whom I attended school at all levels from kindergarten to college, now teaches dairy science at the university level.
As much as I did not want to admit it, I am a teacher. It took me far too long to make peace with that fact. Something inside me would not let it go. As soon as I graduated from Michigan State in 2004 with degrees in supply chain management and Spanish, my entire world shifted. It would not be made right again until I went back to school in 2013.
It all started during the Great Recession with a casual conversation with my ex’s mom Cindy. We were invited to dinner as usual, and Cindy and I struck up a conversation. She told me that she wished that she’d gone back to school to become a nurse. All I could think at the time was that I did not want to be in my 50s and regret not pursuing an interest. During the Christmas shopping season of 2008, I worked at Best Buy in Saginaw. As I lived in the South End of Bay City at the time, I drove by Saginaw Valley State University (SVSU) every day on my way to work. Slowly, I started to wonder what would happen if I did decide to go back to school to become a teacher. The idea excited me and fed my imagination. How could I make it happen? How would I adjust? Online classes, in their infancy back in 2004, intimidated me.
Eventually, I had the ability to make it happen in 2013. I largely enjoyed my time at Saginaw Valley State University (SVSU), although I would advise commuter students to do their homework. For example, if I had not followed up with my advisor, I would have stressed out about the math portion of the general MTTC exam necessary to even apply to the College of Education. I didn’t necessarily doubt my ability to do higher-level math likely trigonometry and low-level calculus, but I had not remotely touched those subjects in well over a decade. The thought terrified me. Much to my relief, my counselor informed me that I scored high enough on the ACT test I took in high school that I did not need to take the general MTTC at all. I then questioned why I wasn’t informed earlier. She simply stated that it likely stemmed from the fact that I was a commuter and a non-traditional student. While I would highly recommend SVSU to traditional college students coming right from high school, I’m not so sure in other situations.
I enjoyed most of my classes and professors at both Delta College and SVSU, but I can’t say that I didn’t have any bad experiences. In fact, one professor and class at SVSU stands out for all of the wrong reasons. This particular professor taught a class that focused on diversity. However, somehow, throughout the entire semester, he managed to offend nearly everyone in the class. Horribly. He supposedly hated coaches. When I ran into a former classmate in a school setting years later, we naturally discussed this infamous class and professor. This man, who happened to coach as well as teach, informed me that this professor tried to get him removed from the College of Education program, likely because he planned to coach.
Somehow, this professor appeared to have no issue with me or one of my good friends, even though he had long ago deeply offended us both. As we paired up to complete our main teaching project for the course, things fell apart. When it came time to “teach” our project, our professor respected my teaching time and even seemed pleased. Then, he proceeded to continually interrupt my friend and teaching partner for her entire portion of the project. He made it exceedingly difficult for her to even finish. Already extraordinarily introverted, I have no idea how she made it through. Disrespectful doesn’t even begin to cover it. Unfortunately, she never did become a teacher, although she would have been wonderful. Instead, she became a librarian. To this day, I still believe that the world needs introverted teachers too. There are too many people like this professor that discourage future teachers every step of the way before they even get started.
Stay tuned … There is much more to this story.
Not just my favorite TED Talk on education and teaching, my favorite TED Talk period.
July 1984 – Tawas, Michigan – Hamming it up with my Schneider and McTaggart cousins at Aunt Tara and Uncle Bill’s wedding. Thank you Aunt Amy for helping me locate this picture!
Sometimes, a picture can bring up a wide-range of emotions: joy, sadness, nostalgia, and everything else. Earlier this summer, I sent my aunts on a search for the picture above. It had been on my mind for some time. I consider it one of the definitive photos of my childhood; one that has always stood out. First, Grandma Buttrick had it framed in one of the back bedrooms of her house for many years. I always enjoyed coming across it during visits. For that reason alone, the picture remains a favorite.
While I was too young to remember having the picture taken at my Aunt Tara’s wedding to Uncle Bill in July of 1984, I grew up hearing all about it. I can’t tell you how many times I heard the story of how I, at three years old, took the instruction to smile at everyone as a flower girl walking down the aisle much too literally. I stopped at every pew. At the end of the ceremony, I cried and ran after my mom as she left the church in the processional as a bridesmaid. I didn’t understand that I just needed to follow my older cousins. My only memory from that day is a hazy notion of playing at the beach on the animal-shaped play equipment at the Tawas City park during the reception.
July 1984 – Smiling for the camera right after the ceremony … Thank you to Aunt Tara for locating this gem.
In the picture, I see myself as a little girl full of personality and character. There is no doubt that I was a ham like my mom, an extrovert. When I look at this picture, I see “before.” Before self-doubt, before losing self-confidence, before I realized that my body is, and always has been, all wrong; in other words, before kindergarten. Prior to kindergarten, no one – not my parents, grandparents, cousins, other adults, other children, or preschool classmates – made me feel inferior in any way. No one asked me to be something that I wasn’t, no one called me fat or ugly. I could be myself.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved school. I would not be a teacher today if that wasn’t the case. I loved learning, I had some great teachers, and most of my classmates were great. Yet, I dreaded gym and recess all throughout elementary school. In gym, always picked last for any game, I just wanted to be good enough. During recess, other students started picking up on just how different my body is and was. When you hear that you are fat and ugly on a daily basis at that young of age, you start to believe it. It becomes a part of you.
1985 – Playing @ The Cottage on Sage Lake with McTaggart and Schneider cousins.
Oddly, things improved a bit during junior high. I cared about my grades, others didn’t. Suddenly, I didn’t care so much about peer pressure. I began to see it for what it was, even though I would have given anything to be what was then considered “normal.” Keep in mind that this included the era of grunge, emo, and heroin chic. Any “normal” adolescent felt inadequate when faced with the popular culture of the time. While I finally did come into my own in high school and college, this picture makes me wonder what I missed all those years in-between. What if I hadn’t had to work so hard for self-confidence? What if I could have kept that early childhood enthusiasm and creativity? What if I hadn’t turned inward in the face of constant bullying in elementary school? What could I have accomplished? What if? That is what this picture represents: possibility. Unadultered possibility.
How is it August already? I will soon start gearing up for the upcoming school year, and the canoe livery will be winding down for another year. By the time the school year is finished, I am eager for all of the craziness that is the canoe livery. By Labor Day, I am more than ready for the next school year. Right now, I am excited for the new school year to begin. The planning has indeed already begun!
On a historical note, MTV debuted with “Video Killed the Radio Star” by the Buggles on this date 43 years ago. I can’t imagine a more perfect first video, especially considering that the year was 1981. Campy and self-aware, it set the stage for a solid 15 year run of great music videos. That may be a joke, and even a meme, but it isn’t far from the truth. By 2000, the MTV we grew up with and loved – the MTV that took Madonna and Michael Jackson to new levels of stardom – turned primarily to reality TV never to return to its roots. Gen X and Xenniels remember …
The first music video aired on MTV when it first aired on August 1st, 1981 – “Video Killed the Radio Star” by the Buggles
Orginally posted on an earlier version of my blog, the post below still holds true.
Where do I even start? I don’t think another TV show ever meant as much to me as The Wonder Years. As I grew up watching the show as a child, I wanted to be Winnie Cooper. I loved her look. I wanted to have the same long brown hair and dark brown eyes. She even looked great when she pouted, which occurred just about any time she talked to Kevin. Something intangible about the show, and Winnie Cooper, stuck with me through the years.
That isn’t even to mention the star of the show, Kevin Arnold. How could any girl resist all of the attention and love he gave Winnie? I don’t think any adolescent girl has ever been as greatly admired and loved as Winnie Cooper. None of it seemed to matter to her. Of course, that is exactly what frustrated me with the show; it is also what made the show great. The audience never knew week to week whether or not Kevin and Winnie would be together. In the end, it wasn’t to be. Winnie went off to study art history in Paris and Kevin went on to start a family of his own, without her. Here is a link to a wonderful Top 10 of Winnie and Kevin together.
I LOVE all of the items on this list! Check it out if you have a few minutes.
What is it about being 18 that makes it so special? My best guess is that 18 represents a sweet spot. While childhood is largely behind you at 18, you are legally an adult. There are few things that one is not old enough to do at 18 – with the exception of legally drinking, renting a car, or reserving a hotel room. Yet, there are plenty of youthful years left. At the same time, high school is now behind you – or about to be. It is time to look ahead. Many 18 year olds have yet to figure out exactly what they want to do when it comes to a career or post-secondary education. The possibilities are endless.
I distinctly remember 18 and being so excited to move on from high school and my hometown. I could not get to Michigan State fast enough. A lot of time, preparation, and hard work made my years at Michigan State a success. My wish for all 18 year olds and all members of the class of 2024 is for them to experience that sense of wonder and endless possibility for themselves.
Vitamin C – Graduation (Friends Forever) (1999) (Video)(Lyrics)
(Written February 12, 2024)
I came across the video for “Graduation (Friends Forever)” by accident this past weekend. Sometimes nostalgia slaps you so hard in the face that it cannot be ignored. While I can’t say that “Graduation (Friends Forever)” was ever a favorite, it did leave an impression when it first came out during the spring of 1999. How could it not? I graduated from high school in 1999, and quite frankly, the target audience.
In the midst of watching classic videos from the 80s and 90s, YouTube saw fit to suggest “Graduation.” Thinking “why not?,” I found myself transported back 25 years. What struck me most about the video wasn’t the song at all. Frankly, I still find it way too saccharine. Instead, I thought about how I could have guessed the year from any still photo from the video. Not a cell phone in sight.
It cracked me up. The video definitely fit the late 90s aesthetic that we all thought so bleeding edge at the time. In fact, the girl’s outfit in the video, the layered yellow tank top with the orange/yellow slip skirt, reminded me of one of my go-to outfits in 2001. The only difference? I didn’t layer tank tops. Instead, I wore a jean jacket over a yellow tank top. I remember it vividly because I loved that outfit and that look so much at the time. Maybe it is time to bring it back.
While I can’t say that I loved or even liked high school (I couldn’t wait to graduate and move on), it is fun to look back from time to time. After watching the video, it hit me that this June will mark 25 years since I graduated from high school. How? Just how? Interestingly, “Wear Sunscreen,” a spoken-word release based upon an essay, became popular during the spring of 1999 as well, even though it dates to 1997. See below.
I started this journey just over 10 years ago, and with all of the setbacks and triumphs along the way, every last step led to where I am now: Exactly where I belong. Actually, it started earlier than that. It all started with a conversation.
On an average evening well over a decade ago, I found myself deep in a conversation with my ex’s mom that changed my perspective, and my life, for the better. As she was making dinner, she brought up the fact that she wished she’d gone back to school to become a nurse. All I could think at the time is that I would do everything in my power to prevent having such a regret later on in life. Somewhere along the line, as I drove by Saginaw Valley State University’s beautiful campus, it hit me: As much as I wanted to deny it, I am a teacher.
In fact, that fact became a bone of contention. When my ex, our relationship already in shambles, found out that I planned to go back to school to become a teacher, he knew exactly which buttons to push, exactly the wrong thing to say. He felt that I wanted to become a teacher simply because my mom and sister are teachers. He had it exactly wrong. I wanted to become a teacher in spite of that fact. I knew intimately the challenges teachers face and have faced for decades. I know how little respect teachers get within our society. I grew up hearing how ineffective teacher preparation programs were and can be. I know how the sausage is made, and yet, I still wanted to be a teacher.
Above all, I am not my mother or my sister. My interest in education is not the same as theirs. Both were meant to be elementary school teachers. Me? Never! I adore young children, but I much prefer to work with teenagers, particularly older teenagers getting ready for the next step in their lives. My mom fell into the profession, and fortunately for her, it suited her well and worked out. Even though she’s been retired for well over a decade, I know what a wonderful teaching legacy she leaves behind. In fact, I am proud to be a part of it. I landed in her 6th grade social studies class.
My sister Erica, on the other hand, knew that she wanted to be a teacher her entire life. We’d play school frequently. With my love of books, I’d be the school librarian. Erica would be the teacher, of course, while our much younger brother Garrett would be the one and only student. Erica may still have some of those early report cards that she made for Garrett.
It is certainly true that teaching is in my blood. My sister and I come from a long line of teachers on our mother’s side going back at least five generations. As interesting as that is, it doesn’t stop there. Both of my mom’s grandmothers taught. My mom’s older sister Tara taught for her entire career. Grandma B. earned her teaching certificate, even though she never taught, choosing instead to stay home and raise her five daughters. Her younger sister, Joyce, taught for decades in the earliest grades. I could go on.
My dad’s family valued education as well. Both my dad and his sister married teachers. He has several cousins who work (and worked) in agricultural education and special education in various capacities. Even though my paternal grandparents never had the opportunity to pursue college educations, they encouraged their children to do so. In fact, my grandma valued her education so much that her school memories were some of the last to go in the face of dementia. Stories I will never forget. In fact, I doubt I would have had the opportunity to go back to school to earn my teaching certificate without Grandma Reid’s influence.
So, why did I go back to school to earn my teaching certificate? It is quite simple. I knew that if I didn’t, I would regret it for the rest of my life. My life would be unfulfilled. It has not been an easy journey, to say the least, but I am now exactly where I am supposed to be. Stay turned. This is just the beginning.
In March 2020, during Lent, this piece of art featured prominently outside my classroom door. When we left school that fate Friday, March 13th, no one realized that we wouldn’t see each other in person for months.
Growing up, I always wanted to live through a historic event. Unfortunately, little did I know what life had in store for me. Now in my early 40s, I am amazed when I stop to think about what historic events I have lived through already – and how different the world is from when I grew up. I vividly remember the Cold War; the fall of the Berlin Wall; both the first and second Gulf Wars; September 11th, 2001; the War in Afghanistan; and of course, the COVID 19 pandemic.
A year after September 11th, 2001, that somber anniversary inspired me to write about my experiences on that fateful day. That entire morning is etched in my memory. At the time, I had just started my semester studying abroad in Quito, Ecuador a couple of weeks before. I was still learning my routine and adjusting to my new host family. September 11th colored that entire experience as there was no way it could not. While I didn’t write much for the 9/11 digital archive, what I did write sets the scene and provides a glimpse into what US exchange students were dealing with all over the world. My full story can be found at The September 11 Digital Archive, story6757.xml.
This past spring, a conversation with a fellow writer made me realize that I could do the same with my experiences throughout the pandemic. I found a place to archive all of my writing relating to the pandemic, past and future – A Journal of a Plague Year. I may include some videos I have from that time frame as well. It may become a cool little side project. I’m definitely looking forward to it. Maybe I’ll be able to finally put all that the pandemic disturbed and disrupted behind me.
There are SO many things that stand out. That first awful week of the shutdown during which I had to go to school, alone, and pack up all of my 6th graders belongings (pictured below). The conversation that I had with Norma and Ashley as school dismissed that awful Friday, March 13th of Lent, not realizing that we would not see each other in person for months, will always be remembered.
In the weeks following our last in-person day of school (March 13th, 2020), as a teacher, I had to pack up my students belongings and prepare them for pickup by parents. Each teacher had an assigned time to be in the building.Doing so in the middle of the stay at home order, not knowing when I would see students, teachers, and staff again, was nothing less than surreal.
That weekend, my mom had had several old high school friends over for a get-together. The venue changed from a friend’s house to my mom’s in order to limit contact with her friend’s disabled and susceptible son. All so very strange and new. Keep in mind that this is just before the stay at home order was issued for Michigan.
After I learned that we would not be going back to school the following Monday, I just packed clothes and headed to my parents’ house. I didn’t know what else to do. I would stay there with them well into May/June. What I remember most is that I happened to catch some of my mom’s friends, some of my favorite people, before they left. It would be the last time I would see them for several months.
I could easily keep going. The spring of 2020 also represented the end of my first full year of teaching, my first 6th grade class. Definitely not the way I wanted to start off my teaching career. Personally, I believe the education system is still reeling from the shutdown. Students and teachers are still trying to pick up the pieces.
This is just a glimpse of what I plan to share and document. I hope that I inspire others to do the same.
Well, how can I fully explain last week? Last Thursday, I took my last final exam ever – unless, of course, someone wants to pay for a graduate degree program or PhD. Frankly, it is amazing. I attended Michigan State from 1999-2004 – and then Delta College and Saginaw Valley State University to obtain my teaching certificate (2014-2016). When I started my teaching career, I almost immediately decided that I wanted to add an English endorsement to my social studies and Spanish secondary endorsements. Back to school I went from 2019, class by class and in the middle of a pandemic, until last week. I am done. Now that my grade is finalized, I will finally be able to add the English endorsement (secondary) to my teaching certificate. In fact, I already applied to have it added.
So, what’s next? Well, after this summer, I am not entirely sure. We will see where things take me come fall. I have several ideas. For now, I am in the midst of getting the canoe livery ready for the summer. Starting May 15th, I will be working there full-time once again. I’ve actually been taking reservations at home all winter. People are eager to get out on the river! As I say so many times, we have the best customers. I love thinking about how many memories have been made at our campgrounds and on the RIfle River over the decades.
RIght now, I couldn’t be in a better place. I wrapped up so many loose ends over the last academic year and did exactly what I set out to do. I have so many great options in front of me. I finally feel ready to move on. Stay tuned!
Ramblings of a Misguided Blonde 